


Phoenix Rising

by CallidoraMedea



Series: Hunger Games Prequel Collection [1]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Anger, Arena (Hunger Games), Avoxes (Hunger Games), District 1 (Hunger Games), District 4 (Hunger Games), District 7 (Hunger Games), Female Characters, Female Friendship, Female Protagonist, Friendship, Hunger Games, Hunger Games-Typical Death/Violence, Inspired by The Hunger Games, Major Original Character(s), Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, POV Female Character, POV Original Character, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prequel, Prequel: The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, Rebels Hunger Games, Strong Female Characters, The Capitol (Hunger Games), Trains, Trauma, volunteers - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:47:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 20
Words: 60,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27423694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallidoraMedea/pseuds/CallidoraMedea
Summary: The Rebellion has been crushed and the Dark Days are over. Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, the Capitol has taken control once more. To make sure that the districts never forget their defeat, the Capitol institutes the Hunger Games: a battle to the death using the districts' children. Whether these children will become phoenixes or stay ashes- that's up to them.
Series: Hunger Games Prequel Collection [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2003500
Comments: 27
Kudos: 6





	1. Bleak Winter

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the year of the First Hunger Games! This is my second story based in this year; my first, The First Annual Hunger Games, was written before Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes was released. This story you're about to read is more accurate to the books, and will flow better with the series of stories I have already written and will write for this site. I hope you enjoy this story, and let me know what you think! I own nothing of the Hunger Games; I am merely playing in the world that Suzanne Collins created.

** Cass Oceansong **

"Get into the square! Now! Now!"

I grip my mother's hand as we hurry past the Peacekeepers armed with guns and batons. Father is coming after us, holding onto Cressida who's crying quietly. She's only six, and the Peacekeepers are terrifying her.

Of course, they've been terrifying all of us.

Ever since the districts lost the rebellions, District 4 has been swarming with Peacekeepers, who club people for being outside after dark, for speaking their minds, for doing nothing at all. Wave pretends that she's okay, but I hear her crying in her bed every night from the nightmares. I have them too.

"Hurry, Mother!" Sea calls from a few steps ahead of us. Mother doesn't answer, just presses her lips so tightly together that they disappear. People shove up against me, making me almost fall, but it's not their fault. I blame the rubble that lies underneath my feet, and the slowly melting snow.

Just when I think I'm going to suffocate in this crowd, we turn the corner into the square. It's changed so much since the last time I was here a week ago, when the leaders of the rebellion were killed.

Several weeks ago, something happened, something big, and then the Peacekeepers arrived and killed the last of the rebellion here in District 4. We weren't allowed to leave our homes for weeks. I think we all cried a lot. I still don't know what happened, but rumor has it that District 13 was obliterated. A district can't be destroyed, can it?

I'll never get the sounds of bombings and shooting out of my head. Even thinking about it makes my hands shake. We lost so much; our buildings, our freedom, our hope. Now I, Cass Oceansong, am waiting in the semi-rebuilt town square; waiting to see what the Capitol will take this time.

Just a week ago, the Justice Building was more than half rubble; the cobblestones that make up the road were cracked and destroyed, partially hidden under snow. Now the Justice Building has been patched in places, with Peacekeepers guarding the outside, and a large television screen has been erected on the one fully remaining wall.

Wave slips her hand into mine, and I squeeze hers tightly. My sister, my beautiful little sister, with the red hair that matches mine. I'm scared. I think we all are- and defeated. While the last of District 4 packs into the town square, I hold my mother's hand in my left and my sister's hand in my right, trying to draw their strength into me and give back to them what I do have. What does the Capitol want from us?

Our mayor, Crest Clawsea, steps out onto the ruined steps of the Justice Building, looking just as pale and dejected as the rest of us. "Welcome, District 4," she says, her voice carrying throughout the crowd. We're dead silent. "Our kind and benevolent President wishes to speak to us all as a District, and indeed, as a country." She swallows, and nods to her left.

On cue, the screen that sits on the side of the Justice Building lights up, and there, larger than life, is the president of Panem. I hate him, hate him to the bottom of my soul. He should not hate me, however; my family was neutral in the uprising. We did nothing to him or his Capitol. We did nothing.

"Hello Panem," President Ravinstill says, unsmiling. "We are once again a united country. District 13 has been obliterated, and the rebellion is over."

So it's true. District 13 is gone; my family heard the rumors, but I didn't want to believe it. We may not have officially chosen sides in the uprising, but my family wanted to be free no matter what; no matter who gave us that freedom. Freedom from oppression was the dream, and now it's been taken away. District 13, the leader of the rebellion, is gone, and so is that hope of liberation.

"We are a kind and generous Capitol, and you betrayed our trust in you," President Ravinstill continues, sitting at a desk somewhere thousands of miles away, reading off a paper. "Just as District 13 was destroyed, so can we destroy you. But," he says with a flicker of a smile, "We have decided to be merciful. However, you who rebelled must face the consequences."

District 4 collectively holds a breath as he pulls out a crisp, white piece of paper and begins to read off of it. "The newly instated Treaty of Treason states that, in penance for their uprising, each district shall offer up a male and a female between the ages of 12 and 18 at a public reaping. These tributes shall be delivered to the custody of the Capitol, and then transferred into a public arena, where they will fight to the death until a lone victor remains. Henceforth and forevermore this pageant shall be known as The Hunger Games."

Here he pauses, as District 4 erupts, shouting and screaming at the screen that shows our president. Mother grips my hand and looks down at me with grief and shock. I feel like I've been hit in the head with something heavy and blunt. Fight to the death? Children? How could the Capitol do that? They can't, can they?

Wave's hand trembles in mine. She's twelve, just eligible. I'm eligible at fourteen, and Sea is too, at sixteen. How will they choose us? There're so many children eligible; how will the Capitol choose us? All around us our neighbors and friends protest the news, and the cacophony rings in my ears, drowning out all my thoughts. I don't scream; I have been struck silent.

Peacekeepers shoot over our heads several times, bringing the crowd to silence again, with only vague mutters here and there. As though he expected pushback, the president hesitates a minute more, then continues his speech.

"In one month's time, the first of April, every boy and girl between the ages of twelve and eighteen will be required to submit their names at their Justice Building. At twelve, their names will be entered once into the reaping bowl, at thirteen, twice, and so on until the age of eighteen when they will have seven chances to be reaped. The reapings will take place in the first week of July, in every district in Panem."

President Ravinstill smiles briefly again, then lets his face return to stone. "You may have tried to burn us, Panem, but the Capitol has risen out of the ashes like a phoenix: reborn and stronger than before. You may have tried to burn us, but we have reduced you to ash. Every year, you will remember how you rose against the Phoenix, and every year you will regret your choices. May you never forget what you chose. Panem, may the odds be ever in your favor now. You will need them to be."

The screen fades to black and I feel a cold chill run down my spine. Every year. Every year. Two children every year.

"A posting of the rules of the reapings will be posted here in the next few days," Mayor Clawsea says, speaking loudly and desperately over the mutterings of the crowd that grow louder and louder, swelling into a roar of protest. "Remember to come and sign your names here on April 1st!"

"Like hell my children will!" a man shouts a few feet away from me. Wash Roarside, that's his name. He has four children eligible, according to the Capitol's rules. A few others shout alongside him, agreeing.

A gunshot goes off and Wash drops to the pavement, a bullet through his head. Wave shrieks and bursts into tears; I take my hand out of hers and pull her face into my side, so she doesn't have to see Wash bleeding out into the snow-covered cobblestones. I don't say a word; I'm too scared to. I knew him. He was my father's friend, and now Wash Roarside is dead. Mother has my hand in a grip like iron. I want to look away from Wash, but somehow, I can't; it's like my eyes are riveted to the sight of the dead man.

"Get out! Get out of the square and shut up, or you'll end up like him!" the Head Peacekeeper shouts at us. I watch Wash's children wail and scream; his eldest daughter kneels at his head and screams a long, animal like wail at seeing her father's blood in the snow. Before, my mother might have gone and helped them, but that time is past. Instead, she pulls me away, hurrying towards my father who's becoming lost in the crowd with Cressida and Sea.

"Don't let them take me!" Wave wails, full on sobbing now.

"Shush! I won't! Hurry, Wave!" I tell her, pulling her along behind me.

"Cass! Cass!" I can hear my name being called, but I can't turn around to see who it is. The tide of people is coming in against me, and I know better than to go against the current. Whoever is calling after me will just have to come to me with the flow.

Wave keeps sobbing all the way to the house; gunshots go off behind me and I don't know whether the Peacekeepers are actually killing my neighbors, or if they're just shooting over our heads again. Mother pulls me along faster, until we reach our topsy-turvy house with the slanting roof and step inside the door.

Cressida's crying when we get inside; fat tears roll down her face and drop onto the floor. Wave sits down by the door and buries her face in her knees, not even bothering to take off her boots. Father hasn't taken off his boots or his coat yet either; instead he paces back and forth in front of the woodstove.

"Kai!" Mother says, and she says my father's name like a cry of despair.

"Claire," he says, and Mother throws herself into my father's arms. For a brief moment in time, they are one person, indivisible.

"They can't get away with this," Sea says, pushing her dark hair out of her eyes. "They can't! This is why we should have helped with the movement!"

"You're sixteen; you couldn't have taken on the Capitol on your own. Thirteen districts couldn't; how could you?" I say, pulling off my boots and pushing them neatly into a corner. Wave hasn't moved yet, so I tug her boots and coat off, helping her up and over to the kitchen table, where she promptly buries her face in her arms, her shoulders shaking.

"Wave, shush," I say, sitting down beside my little sister. "There're a lot of kids in District 4; they're not going to pick you." Every word that comes out of my mouth feels heavy. I can't believe the Capitol has decided to do this! I'm sure they'll think it through and cancel it, try to reconcile with the districts.

Of course, they didn't exactly reconcile with District 13.

"You don't know that! And somebody's going to go away!" she says, muffled. Sea's picked Cressida up off the floor and is rocking her gently back and forth, sitting down opposite me at the kitchen table. Her face flickers between bewilderment and anger, but she doesn't say anything else about the rebellion. Three years of bombings and famine and war for nothing. In fact, we're worse off than before!

"None of you is going anywhere, not if I can help it," Father says, stepping away from Mother and pulling up to his full height. "I am not going to lose a daughter."

Mother's lips are pulled tighter than ever, but she nods slightly. "None of you is going to die." Wave pulls her head out of her arms, her face tear-streaked, but before she can say anything, someone knocks on the door.

I tense instantly. A Peacekeeper? Are we going to be arrested or killed? They killed the leaders of the rebellion a week ago, right there in the square where we were a few minutes ago. Just put bullets through their heads and left them there as a warning. Are they going to kill us?

Showing no sign of fear, Father strides over to the door and opens it wide. "Tempest, come in," he says, and I instantly relax. My best friend. "I see you brought your sister."

"I couldn't leave her in the square," Tempest says brightly, but her eyes are worried when she looks at me. I've known Tempest Flanagan my whole life; our mothers were best friends before her mother died two years ago.

"Hello Mags," I say, slipping off my chair and crouching down to her level. She's an adorable five year old, with a head full of red curls. She looks a lot like Tempest, who's my age, fourteen, except for her nose. Mags's little pointy nose comes straight from her father.

"Hi Cass!" she says brightly, then runs over to where Cressida is sitting on Sea. The two girls have been friends since birth, and my sister lights up when she sees Mags.

"Since they're playing, would you like to walk down to the docks with me?" Tempest asks. I look to my Mother, who hesitates.

"I don't want you out there, with the guns and crowds, Cass," she says. The lines around her eyes deepen when she looks at me. The last few years have been hard on her. "I don't want you hurt."

"The crowds were nearly gone when I got here," Tempest says.

Father opens the door and looks out. "You may go, as long as you stay at the docks. Nobody will hurt you or question you there."

"Yes, Father," I say, grabbing my boots and pulling them back on. "We won't be long."

"Please don't be," Mother says, smiling faintly. "Be safe, both of you."

Tempest and I fight against the newly falling snow as we make our way to the docks, amongst the last of the stragglers who came from the square. Peacekeepers stand sporadically along the streets, watching us go by. I avoid their eyes.

"Spring is coming soon, so why can't we do away with this snow?" Tempest mumbles as we brush snowflakes out of our eyes.

"This has been the longest winter I can remember," I answer. "I hope this will be the end of it." The bleakest winter anyone can remember, the bleakest in three years. District 4 used to be a place of color and light, and now all I see are shades of grey and bombed out houses.

The rough stones turn into smooth wood unexpectedly; I look up from the ground, where I've been watching every step, and there in front of me is my beloved ocean. No ships or boats are out sailing today; every person in District 4 has been out of work since right before the rebellion ended.

"Come on, let's go sit on the edge," Tempest says, so I follow her to where the dock hangs over the water. Sitting down, we dangle our feet over the side, and then we fall silent.

All at once, I burst into tears. "I can't believe it! They can't do it, can they?"

"I don't understand it at all. How's it going to work? How are they going to make us fight; anyone who gets chosen isn't going to fight, don't they realize that?" Tempest says, pulling a loose chunk of wood up and throwing it as far as she can into the dark water.

"I wouldn't fight," I say, wiping my eyes. "They couldn't make me."

"Let's hope you won't have to," Tempest says, reaching over and grabbing my hand. "Or me, or our sisters."

"Mags can't anyway," I say. "She's too young, like Cressida."

"What about when they grow up? When they are eligible?"

"The Capitol isn't going to go through with it. And even if they do, they'll have it one year and that will be enough. They won't really run it for years and years," I say. "They can't."

Tempest looks over at me, then out at the horizon. "I hope you're right, Cass. I hope you're right."


	2. Loyalist

** Silver Bellcreek **

"Look Flaire, the daffodils are blooming!"

Flaire smiles and runs over to the patch of yellow that signals the beginning of spring. "At last! I thought that winter would last _forever!_ " We giggle together and pick as many flowers as we can; Mum loves daffodils more than any other flower. We pick armfuls, and still there are more than we can count left.

"I'm all wet," I say, holding my bouquet with one hand and shaking the water off the other. "That's what we get for coming out before the dew's gone."

"We had to come out early, because at noon we have to go to the Justice Building." Flaire's smile falls from her face, and her eyes crinkle the way they do when she's worried.

"Are you nervous about today?" I ask.

"It's April 1st, of course I'm worried! We have to put our names in the bowl today." A strand of red hair escapes my friend's braid and blows over her forehead. In the morning sun, it looks like her head is on fire.

"So? I'm excited," I say, holding my head high and walking with a skip in my step. "It wouldn't be so bad to be chosen. Imagine if I did go, and I won!"

"Then what?" Flaire asks. "You'd have to kill a bunch of other kids. Not worth it, especially since you don't get anything out of it."

"I'd go down in history as the first victor, that's what I'd get out of it," I say. "Fame and glory."

Flaire laughs. "Not even! Silver, have you seen the district? Hell, have you seen the _country_? It's in ruins! There's not going to be any fame or glory for you if you go."

I throw my arm around my best friend's shoulder and laugh. "Of course there is! This is only the first year; there's going to be more, and then they'll remember me and put me in the history books."

Flaire shudders. "I think it's barbaric that they're doing it. I don't think District 1 should even be included; we barely revolted here at all."

"Yeah, but think about the Downs and the Pembersies; they all supported the rebellion. Even if my family didn't, and your family didn't, it doesn't mean that everyone in the district was an angel." I'm proud to support the Capitol, like my whole family. We fought against the rebellion, which made a few of our neighbors into enemies, but it doesn't matter now. The Capitol won, and that's all that counts.

"Kids killing kids? It won't last; nobody wants to watch that," Flaire says. "I don't, that's for sure."

"Like it or not, the kids chosen will be from rebel families, and then they'll get their comeuppance, and it won't affect us at all." I pull my arm from around Flaire's shoulder and walk a little faster, making her jog to catch up. "You'll see, Flaire; all the tributes are going to be rebel kids, and that'll drive it home that rebels are not tolerated in Panem."

The rebellion lasted three years, and it's been over for just about a month now. District 1 didn't suffer too many casualties, or too many bombings, but the craftsmen are still putting buildings and streets back together, and the graveyard in the east of the district has well over two dozen new graves in it that it didn't have four months ago.

"Sun's up; I've got to get home," Flaire says, grabbing my arm. "See you at noon?"

I nod. "See you!"

I watch Flaire run off down the grey street, her braid thumping against her back with every step. She's been my best friend since we started school, and we're practically inseparable. When she disappears around a corner, I make my way down a side street, towards my own house, with the white brick walls and grey tiled roof. It came through the uprising intact, which is a blessing. Can't say that for all of the District 1 houses.

When I open the door, I'm hit with the smell of baking. It's a bittersweet smell, because it reminds me of the days before the rebellion, when sugar and flour were easy to get, before the world turned upside down; but it's wonderful now that Mum can get the supplies to bake again. The rebellion is over, and life can slowly go back to normal.

Mum's standing at the stove, pulling muffins out of the oven as I close the door. She smiles at me as she places the tray on the counter. "Good morning, Silver. I wondered where you had gone."

"I got you flowers!" I say, holding out the daffodils as I pull my boots off. "Spring's finally here."

"Aren't you thoughtful," Mum says, taking the flowers and kissing my forehead. "Your father's gone to work already, but would you go wake your siblings? It's going to be a busy day today."

I give Mum a quick hug, then run up the rickety stairs to the loft where my siblings and I sleep. It's hot in summer, and vaguely warm in winter, since the fireplace chimney runs right up the middle of the room. My thirteen year old sister, Shine, and I share a bed on one side of the chimney, while our ten year old brother, Glint, has the other side of the room, where the stairs come up, to himself. On either side of the chimney, my mother strung old sheets up, for privacy. They're so see through that it doesn't help much, though.

I grab my brother and roll him back and forth, singing out, "Wake up, Glint! Breakfast!"

"Shove off, Silver."

"It's a big day! Come on, get up!" I shove him one last time, then run through the curtains to where my sister is sitting up, blinking sleep from her eyes. Shine and Glint aren't morning people, but I am. Morning is my favorite time of day.

"It's April!" I say, jumping onto the bed next to her. Shine smiles weakly. "Oh, don't you worry, you just get your name in twice. You'll be fine."

"I don't want to go to the Justice Building!" Shine says.

"Too bad, we have to. But Mum's made muffins! Come on downstairs!" I leap off the bed, through the curtains again, and almost fall down the stairs. Mum rolls her eyes at me, but she's smiling when she does it.

"Do you ever walk anywhere, or are you perpetually running?" she asks, placing a plate of muffins on the table.

"Always running," I say, sitting down in my usual spot.

"Are they coming?"

"Think so."

A few minutes pass, but Shine and Glint do eventually make their ways downstairs. I'm excited and nervous for today; it's just writing my name on paper, but it means something, you know? I'll bet it'll be like pulling teeth to get some of the other kids to write their names, but I'll write my name proudly. I have nothing to fear; I supported the Capitol.

Once the muffins have all been eaten, Mum says, "Go make your beds, comb your hair, and all that. We should leave earlier than later for the square; it's bound to be busy today."

"Yes, Mum," we say together. You don't disobey Mum, ever. Leaving our plates where they lie, we rush up the stairs, into the loft that's sunlit by the two windows high up by the ceiling.

"How many slips do you have to write today?" Shine asks, pulling our quilt up while I plump the pillows.

"Five, because I'm sixteen," I say, placing the pillow neatly by the headboard and letting Shine pull the quilt over it. "And you only have two, so you shouldn't be worried at all."

"What if we get picked in July?" my sister asks, her blue eyes wide. Everyone says we look alike, and I suppose there's some truth in it; same blue eyes, same platinum hair, same thin nose. In truth, we look just like Mum, who gave us our features.

"What if we do? I'd go without complaining. You know that the Capitol wouldn't do us any harm, and like it or not we'd be the victor."

"I wouldn't want to kill anyone," Shine says firmly. "And the Capitol isn't always right. They bombed our district, they cut the food lines off, and there're too many Peacekeepers."

"That's because some of the district rebelled; you know that. It wasn't like that before the rebellion, and I'm sure it'll get back to normal soon. The Capitol likes us; even if it keeps the Hunger Games going, they'll make District 1 stop competing. You'll see; everything will turn out wonderfully. The rebellion's over, and the Capitol won!"

I poke Shine's nose, expecting her to laugh, but she doesn't. "Even still, I wouldn't want to go to the Capitol," she says.

I shrug. "Suit yourself then. I'm going to brush my hair; you can have the brush when I'm done."

"No fair! Just because you're older doesn't mean that you can take the brush first every morning!" Shine says.

"Watch me," I say, and laugh. Now that the uprising is over, there's so much to laugh about; life is beautiful again!

It's precisely half past eleven when Mum lines us up at the door and nods. "You'll make a good impression today. Ready?" I nod, and so does Shine, who looks dramatically less enthusiastic than I feel. "Then let's get going," Mum says, opening the door, and we all file out onto the street.

The roads are chaos as we make our way to the town square; Peacekeepers are stationed every few feet, holding guns that make Glint shrink against Mum. I'm not scared; I have nothing to fear. The Peacekeepers are simply here to keep the rebellion from sparking again. Once it's clear that the Capitol won, most of them will go home.

Walking with us are our neighbors; Mrs. Treenettle is pulling along her daughter Jasmine with one hand and her son, Ravish, with the other. They're old enough to know better, so why does she have to pull them?

On my right, Ariana Dovecote is crying while she walks by herself; her family were rebels, high up rebels, and her parents were shot right after District 13 fell. Now she's all by herself, and even though it's not exactly her fault, I don't feel very sorry for her. If they hadn't been rebels, they wouldn't be dead!

My family mingles in with the crowd, rebels and loyalists alike; today it doesn't matter who you are. Your name is going in the reaping bowl no matter what. Better to look proud about it, and be happy that you can represent your district, than to look downcast; like you're going to slaughter. Even if you're chosen, having a pessimistic view on things won't help you in the arena.

When the district clock, that was just recently repaired after being blown up, rings out twelve, Mayor Athie Cumberslip gets up on the steps of the Justice Building, flanked by Peacekeepers. "Excuse me! Excuse me, District 1! I would like to do this in alphabetical order, so we might get through it faster."

More Peacekeepers materialize from the sides and start silently creating groups. "I would like those with the surnames starting from A-H to stand to the far left; I-R in the middle; S-Z on the far right, please."

Mum has Glint by the collar of his shirt, pushing him forwards and to the left, while simultaneously propelling Shine the same direction. I don't need help to move; I just step quickly through the crowd, narrowly avoiding crushing a girl's foot with my own. I don't see Flaire anywhere, or her siblings, but they're Moreau, so they wouldn't be standing with us anyway.

"What do we do when we get up there?" Shine asks; I can barely hear her low voice over the chatter around us.

"They'll tell us I'm sure," I say, facing front and waiting for instructions. Mayor Cumberslip is a good woman; a Capitol supporter before and throughout the war. My parents have had her over for supper in the past, before food was rationed and there was an unspoken rule that you don't let anyone else know how much you have in the house.

Once we've all been segregated into our three groups, Mayor Cumberslip starts calling people from the crowd forward. "As! Can I get those whose last name starts with A to come to the front and make a queue please?"

While the As do that, I look at the people who surround me. There's a mixture of emotions going on; one girl with dark blonde hair looks almost bored, while a boy with a shaved head looks furious and keeps picking at his nails. Two feet away there's a younger girl, maybe Shine's age or a little younger, who's sobbing into her hands.

Everyone has one thing in common, though; we're all skinny and underfed. District 1 was never like this in the past, and it makes me sad that the luxury district has fallen into such disrepair. It's all the rebels' faults; if they hadn't attacked the Capitol, then we wouldn't be here right now. I agree with Flaire that the Hunger Games might be a bit barbaric, but no more so than what the rebellion did to Panem. The rebels deserve it. Even if I get chosen, I'm not representing the rebellion. I'm representing the brave citizens who fought back against an uprising, and I would be proud of competing.

"I'm scared, Silver," Shine says, gripping my hand.

"Don't be; it's just writing your name twice," I say, standing on my tiptoes to see farther. I'm so damned small, and I blame that on the rebels too. You can blame practically everything on them, really. "I've got to write mine five times, and I'm not scared."

"You'll be fine, Shine," Mum says behind us. Glint's unusually quiet; it's nice he's keeping his mouth shut for once. He can be such a brat sometimes.

"Are you happy?" I swivel my head and see Glass Coramund glaring at me. Honestly, I'm surprised to see her. I haven't seen Glass since the beginning of the year, and I almost thought she was dead.

We were friends when we first started school, and she even was my second best friend at one time. We fell out when the uprising began; her family were rebels, mine were not. Now that she's obviously alive, I don't know what we are to each other.

"What do you mean, Glass?" I ask, pulling my hand out of Shine's and folding my arms across my chest. "Care to explain?"

"Your precious Capitol has given us all a present," Glass says, gesturing around her. "Happy?"

"I don't see what your problem is," I say. "Oh wait, maybe it's because you lost the war?"

"You lost it too; you just don't realize." Glass scowls and pushes her hair back. "Don't you realize that somebody's going to die, because the Capitol won? Two kids are going to be killed, because of the Capitol."

"As I recall, if you hadn't revolted against the Capitol, we wouldn't be standing here," I retaliate. "The Capitol's right to punish us. Punish you, more like. I didn't do anything wrong."

"What are you going to do if your name gets called in July?"

"I'll go represent my district proudly, and come back a victor," I say.

Glass doesn't say anything, just looks at me for a long time. "Loyalist traitor," she mutters, then walks away into the crowd.

"Don't blame her too much, dear," Mum says behind me. "It's the rebel mentality that's gotten to her. It's a wonder she's even here, what with the parents she has."

"I'm glad you're sensible," I say, turning around. Mum smiles.

"Me too."

"When can we go?" Glint whines, the first thing he's said since we got here.

"When we sign our names," Shine says. "There's a lot of A names in District 1, so this will take a while."

Shine is right; it's a _long_ wait. My feet start to hurt after a while; I shift my weight side to side to give each foot a break. Babies cry, and children wail, and people talk around us, until the noise reminds me of a tracker jacker nest I saw last year hanging from an abandoned house in the east. A constant humming.

"Bs, please come line up!" Athie Cumberslip calls over the humming, as the As slip through us and down the street. I'm extremely glad to be a Bellcreek today.

"Come on, let's go; I don't want to be at the back of the line," I tell Shine, pushing her forward. Mum drags Glint along behind us, and together we manage to move our way into the front of the line, right behind a girl who was crying earlier. Only seven or eight people stand between me and the Justice Building.

Surprisingly, the process is very quick; it only takes a few minutes for each person to go in, do what they're asked to do, then leave, pushing through the crowd to get home. Only two people stand between me and the building; one…

"Next!" A Peacekeeper bellows at me; I pick my chin up and hold it high. Untangling my hand from Shine's again, I walk confidently up the marble steps, cracked and warped as they are, up into the Justice Building.

There are three tables set up; two have men sitting behind them, one has a woman. In the middle of the Justice Building lobby are two bowls labeled Girls and Boys. There's a constant cycle of movement; boys and girls writing, then getting up to put the papers in the bowl and leaving through the front doors as the next wave comes in. I make my way to the table with the label A-H.

I recognize the man sitting down in front of me; he supported the Capitol, and for that the rebels burned his house down a year ago. Crito Bronze, that's his name.

"Silver," he says, nodding.

"Crito. What do I have to do?"

"Full name and address," he says authoritatively, hovering a pen over a clipboard with documents attached.

"Silver Leda Bellcreek, 381 Agate Lane." Crito takes down my words, neatly writing them into the papers on the clipboard. I suppose that's my official file; how they know who I am and where I live. That's alright with me.

"How old are you?" Crito asks, reaching for a large stack of paper, cut into thin strips, that sits to his right.

"Sixteen."

"So that will be… five slips. Have you taken out any tesserae?"

"No." Some of District 1's, let's say, _lower class_ , has been having troubles making ends meet since the end of the war. In exchange for putting their names in the reaping more times, they get grain. Obviously, a Bellcreek would never have to stoop that low; that's mostly for the people who live in the south of the district. I've heard that it was hit hard, but there were mostly rebels who lived down there anyway. Can't say I have too much pity for them.

"Alright, if you could sign your name on these," Crito says, counting off five of the paper strips and laying them on the table in front of me. I pick up the black pen that sits in a holder off to the side, and in my neatest handwriting, I write _Silver Bellcreek_ five times.

"Fold them and put them in the bowl," Crito says, taking the pen back and returning it to its holder, then gestures to the large bowls that sit in the middle of the room.

"I'm assuming the one labeled Girls," I say, and he nods.

"After you do that, you may leave." I fold each slip and collect them in my hand; as I walk away to the bowls I hear the Peacekeeper bellow again. I drop the five slips into the large bowl, each one falling like snow on top of hundreds of other slips. All mixing in together, so that nobody looking at them would be able to tell whose name was whose. That's the point, I guess.

"Silver!" Shine's come in now, waving at me. I wave briefly, take one last look at the bowl before I'm shoved out of the way by a tall boy, then make my way through the doors.

"See you outside!" I say. Shine nods; she's pale but looks alright. I leave just as Crito greets her.

"How did it go?" Mum asks when I get back to her and Glint.

"Fine. Wrote my name and put the papers in the bowl. We're all ready for July 4!" I say, smiling. Somehow seeing all those papers makes me nervous, but I'm not sure how.

"Well, here comes Shine; now we can get out of here."

Shine slips through the mob and nearly trips on the way. "All done! It wasn't so bad, you're right, Silver!"

"I always am," I say, laughing. As we make our way back the way we came, I hear my name being called. I turn, and I see a red head jumping up and down, waving. Flaire.

"Hold on, let me talk to Flaire!" I say. "She's not that far."

"Don't be long, dear," Mum says. "We'll see you at home."

"Okay." I escape the notice of the Peackeepers and make my way into the middle section, where Flaire is grinning at me.

"Did you see the rules yet?" she asks.

"No, have you?"

"Yeah. They're posted on that wall over there," she says, pointing at a brick building that used to be a bank. True enough, there are papers plastered to the side. "Thought you might want to see it before you left."

"I do, thank you," I say, giving Flaire a quick hug. "Don't worry about signing in; it's no trouble at all. There're a lot of papers in the bowl, though."

"I'll see you later; I'll come by tonight," Flaire says.

"See you then."

After leaving Flaire, I go to the bank building and shove my way to the front of the crowd that's gathered there.

** The Rules of the Reapings and The Hunger Games  **

_By law of the Capitol, the reapings will take place on July 4 of each year. The mayors of each respective district will be charged with pulling the slips from the bowls on the morning of July 4. Those who are chosen as tributes should go willingly and without battle; those who do not go quietly will be subdued by other means._

_· To be qualified for the reapings, potential tributes must be between the ages of 12 and 18._

_· The tributes are chosen at random from the reaping bowl; there will be one for each gender, and two from each district. In total, twenty-four tributes will be reaped each year from the twelve districts._

_· Only one slip for each gender is to be pulled. If an eligible person (Ages 12-18), of the same gender as the reaped, in the audience would like to volunteer as tribute, they have a limited amount of time to do so._

_· After both tributes have been chosen, they will be taken into custody immediately._

_· The Hunger Games will commence on July 10 of this year and every year after._

"It's criminal," a man with a beard says next to me, folding his arms across his broad chest. "Taking our children like they're cattle, and making them fight to death?" He shakes his head. "Criminal."

"And I suppose you don't think the uprising was criminal?" I say, unable to hold my tongue. "More people died in the districts from the rebels' doing than tributes will in the arena."

"Capitol lover here," says the man, unsmiling. "What has the Capitol ever done for you, little loyalist?"

"They provided us with security, guidance, and kindness," I say, speaking the words I've heard my father say so often.

The man laughs. "Kindness? They're not so kind now, are they? They could pick you on July 4, and where would you be? Would you think the Capitol was kind then?"

"If I was a tribute, I would go to the Capitol proudly, and I would win," I say.

"You?" The man laughs again. "You couldn't save your life if you tried. Good luck with that, loyalist."

I open my mouth, shut it again, then turn on my heel and walk away, towards the street where my house is. I don't care what rebels say; the Capitol is right; it's always been right. And if we had all known our places and stayed in them, we wouldn't be in these messes, now would we?


	3. Rebel

** Oak Peacewood **

I swing the axe and it meets the tree exactly where I intended it to go. The blade sticks in the wood and I let go of the axe's handle, kicking the tree as hard as I can. Goddamn trees; I never want to see another of them, let alone cut one down. I'll never leave District 7 again, though, no matter how much I want to. I'm stuck here, whether I like it or not.

"What's wrong with you?" Sable looks up at me from where she sits on the ground, holding a piece of tesserae grain bread. She's aged out of the reapings, but her little brother took tesserae out for her whole family.

"Three guesses," I snap, yanking the axe out of the tree. I've been working with Sable for four months or so now, and my dislike of the girl has only grown since I first met her. I don't like any of my teammates, but that's to be expected. I have nothing in common with them, not like who I worked alongside of before. Grief bites at my insides, but I refuse to acknowledge it. Not now.

"Get a handle on yourself," she says, shoving the last of the bread in her mouth, brushing the crumbs off her hands and standing up. I could kill her for the food she has; it's been rough finding anything to eat for months now. It's been even harder since I got evicted from the house I grew up in. "You're only making it more difficult for us to reach quota. I'm sure you have self control, don't you?"

"Shut up," I say, gripping the handle tighter. "Just shut up. You don't even know me."

"Really?" Sable folds her arms. "I've worked with you for a few months; I should know _something_ about you by now, don't you think? Let's see. You're a rebel, or you were, anyway. And as for your parents-"

I feel all the blood rush to my face. "Don't you dare say a word about my parents!" I shout, my hands shaking. "You can't say anything about what they did, because you did shit all during the war." I have never liked Sable, not when we were put into this work crew together, and not at any point since, but I hate her now, just _hate_ her.

"And I'm still here, aren't I, pretty much the same as before?" Sable says with a smug smile. "Compared to you, I'm living the high life. I still have my job, a house, a family. Last I heard about you, you're living in the Sap. There's some sticky people down there." Sable chuckles at her joke, but her smugness is washed off her face when I slap her with every ounce of strength I have.

"Screw you, Sable," I say before walking away deeper into the woods, leaving her behind. I hope she gets a bruise to remind her to shut up from time to time.

Once I can't hear her or the others in my work team talking, or the axes and saws biting into the trees, I stop walking and sink to the ground, shaking all over. I don't know if it's from grief, hunger, or anger, or a mixture of all three.

_Katya, where are you?_

Dropping my axe, I bury my face in my hands and sob. Everything we worked for for three years is gone. My family, my hopes and dreams, the better future we were supposed to fight for and build. It's all gone, and I can't get any of it back. I don't know what's left for me.

"Oak?"

At the sound of my name, I push my curtain of dark hair out of my face and look up through blurry eyes.

"Aldar?" I push my hair back further and wipe my eyes free of tears. What's he doing here?

Aldar leans against a tree, not saying anything, just looking at me. I don't blame him; I've changed a lot in the year since I saw him last. He's a bit taller, but otherwise he's the same as before. Aldar Grovepath. My best friend. Ex-best friend? I have no idea.

"It's been a long time," he says finally, not smiling or showing any sign that he's actually happy to see me.

"Yeah. It has." I'm honestly shocked to see him. I thought we were done a year ago, that our friendship was over. Still might be, but this is the first time he's made contact since our fight. What does he want?

"I'm sorry about your parents." There it is, there's the reason why he's here; the red hot poker drives its way through my chest and twists, like it always does when I think about my parents.

"Me too," I say through my choked throat. I really don't want to keep crying in front of him, but the tears come by themselves.

"But I'm happy to see you still alive. Didn't think you'd come back," Aldar says.

"I didn't think so either. Mom wanted me back here, though. To wait for Katya." Their names choke my throat. Mom. Katya. Dad. Names I spoke every day for seventeen years, and now it's as though they never existed.

"I haven't seen Katya," Aldar says lightly. Of course he hasn't. Nobody has.

"Me either," I admit. I'm scared of telling him too much. I know too much about what happened during the rebellion, and I'm torn between not wanting to tell him about it because I don't trust him, and because I don't want to put him in danger too.

"I'm sorry." Aldar pauses a second more, then shifts his feet to leave.

"You- you can come and sit down if you want," I blurt out. Stupid. After everything that's happened, why should he want to sit with me? Still, I remember the first time he sat with me, on the third day of school when I was six and he was seven. I used to play alone during recess, and he came one day to join me. And every day after that. Things were so simple when we were kids.

"Um, alright," Aldar says, turning back and striding over to where I am, sitting down cross legged across from me.

"Why'd you come out here?" I ask. "How did you find me?"

"You're not that difficult to find," Aldar says, laughing a little. "Your voice carries a long way when you're angry. Besides that, I thought we should make contact again. We're all on the same side, after all. Now."

For a second I hate him, but I fight the feeling down.

"Why didn't you help me when I needed you?" I whisper.

Aldar breathes out and stares off into the distance. I love him, I hate him; he is my past, but I don't know if he's my future. My best friend, who swore he would never let me down, until he did. And I don't know if I can forgive him for it.

In the end, he doesn't answer my question. "How do you feel about next month?" he says instead.

"What, the reapings?"

"Yeah."

I laugh harshly. "Being the daughter of Sky and Ash Peacewood, I think I have a pretty good shot at getting my name called."

"I hope not," Aldar says, and he actually sounds sincere.

I shrug. "What will happen will happen. Killing my parents wasn't enough; they'll want me next. And Katya…" I can't stop the tears from coming this time, and I double over with renewed crying. The pain is like a weight on my back, a weight I've been carrying since the uprising ended.

"Hey, hey I'm sorry," Aldar says, grabbing my hand. "Oak. I'm sorry. For everything."

"Doesn't really matter now, does it?" I mutter. "It's been a year since I saw you; everything's changed. It can't go back to the way it was."

Aldar sighs, letting go of my hand and looking past me into the trees. "The rebellion was reckless. It shouldn't have happened, and it's no wonder it failed. No offense, but it's true."

"If more people believed in it, we would have won," I snap. "It's not my fault."

"I didn't say it was. I told you before that keeping the peace was our duty, and I still stand by that."

I scramble to my feet, my hands in fists at my sides. "You're one to talk, Alder Grovepath!" I say, my voice rising. "You did nothing in the war, while I fought and lost everything. Maybe if you, and all the others like you, had gotten up off your asses and not just stayed in the woods like good slaves, things would be different, my family wouldn't be dead, and there would be no Hunger Games!"

"And maybe if your lot hadn't riled up trouble throughout the districts, we wouldn't be in this mess to begin with!" Aldar says, getting up and facing me, his face flushing pink. I'm tall, but in the last year, he's grown a head taller than me. It's odd that I notice that now, when I hate him so much.

"My lot? My parents, that's who you're talking about!" I say. "Your neighbors, your relatives, your district! We wanted to be free, and if we could have just gotten into the Capitol, this whole thing could have been finished the right way!" Memories of the fight at the Capitol swarm my memories, but I push them away.

Aldar rubs his face in his hands, then looks at me tiredly. "I don't want to fight with you, Oak. It's over now, and whatever sides we took, they don't exist anymore."

I keep my mouth shut, clenching my jaw so hard it pops on one side.

"Can't we be friends again?" he asks. A year ago I would have said no, six months ago I would have considered it; four months ago I might have said yes. He was my best friend, but best friends don't betray each other.

"No. No, I can't trust you anymore, Aldar," I say, picking up my axe and walking away, leaving him amongst the trees.

"There you are! Jareth came through and asked where you were, and I had to lie and say you went to relieve yourself. I'm not lying for you again, Peacewood," Forest says as I walk into my teammates' midst. There're four of us in this work team, and I dislike every single one of them, from Forest who's obsessed with order and must be in his late twenties, to Kida, who's married with two kids and is the most serious person in District 7. Add to them Sable, who I'm pleased to see still has a red mark on her face where I slapped her, and you have an insufferable team.

"Whatever," I say, marching past him to get to the tree I was trying to fell before Sable got talkative.

"You really need an attitude adjustment," Forest says behind me. I won't rise to the bait. I could kill them all, right here and now, but that's considered illegal in 7. War time tactics don't fly here.

"Oh, let her go, Forest. She's a lost cause anyway," Kida says in her low monotone. When I hear her voice, I think of the color grey; the color of storm clouds and ash. I don't respond to her either; I just attack the tree with all the anger and grief and frustration that's built up inside me since I lost everything. The axe bites into the wood again and again and again, until my arms ache and tears run down my cheeks, only stopping when the tree falls, crashing to the ground in the middle of the District 7 forest.

If this is all my life is going to be, I don't want to live it.

When the sunlight fades from the forest, sending odd shadows here and there and the leaves turn a greyish green, the horn that signals the end of the day blares through the trees.

"Get here bright and early tomorrow, Peacewood," Forest says, slinging his axe over his shoulder. Sable glares at me as she leaves behind Forest, but Kida doesn't even give me a glance. I'm dangerous to them; I'm the rebel; I saw action, I killed people whose names I didn't know and didn't care to know. All for nothing.

The Peacekeeper named Jareth walks through and gestures with his gun for me to leave. I give him a short nod as I go; I don't want to be on the Peacekeepers' bad sides. I'm in enough trouble as it is.

As I walk out of the woods into the proper district town, I'm just as shocked as I was when I came back months ago. Nothing much has been done to repair the town, so a lot of the buildings are still rubble, and people all over are living in shanty houses built from whatever scraps they could gather up. The ones in the center of town are better made, and the houses there are slowly being repaired, for the merchant class of District 7. Around the outskirts, it's rough.

That's where I live.

I walk in the dying sun through the narrow and ruined streets, taking care to step over the rubble as I go. Off to the right, where there's an overhang from the buildings above, there's a small shape in the gutter. I keep my eyes averted, because I know it's a child. Death isn't uncommon here, from illness or starvation. I can't feel anything for those who die every day, because if I started feeling for everyone I would crack and shatter everywhere. I have three names I mourn for, and that's all I can hold inside me without breaking.

Where the streets turn to complete rubble, someone's put up a sign saying The Sap. No idea why they decided to name it that, but that's what it is. And here is where I live.

On either side of the destroyed road there are shanties, most just debris covered with tin or tarps or shattered wood. Hollow eyes watch me as I walk; sharp boned children with sunken faces, gaunt mothers nursing babies that look barely alive. This is where the lowest of the low live, those who have no other place to go, or who had family who fought against the Capitol.

These should be my people, but they won't talk to me either. Nobody wants to be the one to get close to the daughter of Sky and Ash Peacewood. As soon as District 13 fell, I became a pariah in my own district.

My shanty is on the right; I rigged it up out of broken wood, some scraps of metal, and an old tarp with a hole in it that I found. When it rains, it leaks, but it's the best I can get. The people next door have it worse, but most of the people here aren't completely lawless. It's a taboo to steal from your neighbors, but I keep my valuables buried under my bed anyway. I don't trust anyone, not anymore.

There's not much in my home, if you can call it that; a few planks laid out makes my bed; a wooden box is a table or a chair, and a ring of stones underneath the tear in the tarp makes my firepit. That's all I have furniture wise.

I kneel down and reach under the bed planks, pulling out a box of broken matches. Using a few pieces of scrap wood and a few pages from a wrecked book I found, I start the fire. It's small, but it helps keep the cold away at night. And the rats.

While the fire grows taller, I lift the planks out of the way, digging into the dirt until my fingers brush wood. With a little effort, I pull the small chest out of the ground and set it in front of the fire, brushing the dirt off the lid before I open it.

I didn't always live in the Sap. Even though it hurts to think about it, I let my mind wander back to when I lived on Cherry Lane, in the big house made of wood, painted blue, with flowers hanging off the windowsills. My room the color of lavender I shared with Katya. The kitchen with the iron stove, the living room with the brick fireplace. The cat we called Lily. The chairs and table that my father made; sanded smooth and stained dark.

My home, the place where I grew up, the place where I left all my happy memories. When I got back to District 7, I got into the work crew right away. I could pay the rent for one month, but I didn't make enough to keep the house. So they threw me out, and I landed here in the Sap, where I've been ever since. No other place to go.

In this chest is everything I managed to take with me. My fingers shake a little when I unlatch it, lifting the lid to reveal my few treasures. A tiny doll my mother made me when I was four. A necklace she always wore, that I managed to hold onto. My father's pocket watch, Katya's silver ring. A hair ribbon the color of the sky. A few coins that I save, just in case. A dry chunk of bread I stored in here to keep safe, which is my only supper tonight. And a photo, black and white in a tarnished silver frame, of the four of us together.

The photo was taken before the uprising, so I must have been fourteen and Katya sixteen in it. My mother and father stand behind us, Mom smiling at the camera, my father with his mustache that he was so proud of, looking slightly at her, with a smile on his face. Katya's mouth is open in a grin, like she's about to say something funny. I'm sitting next to her; I look young and peaceful and happy.

Where is my sister? Why hasn't she come back for me? She said she would, she promised she would come back, but she hasn't. The rumors can't be true, they can't be. Not my sister.

I pack everything back away, save for the bread, which I lay down beside the fire. I close the lid of the small trunk and rebury it underneath the bed planks. I put the planks down and smooth the quilt back over it; that's something I saved too; the quilt from my bed, and the pillow stuffed with goose feathers.

"Shit!" When I turn back to grab my bread, it's too late. A rat's taken it whole and scampered off with it, too fast for me to catch. How did it all end like this? I'm here, we lost, and next month the reapings happen. With my luck, and with who I am, I'm almost guaranteed a place in the first Hunger Games.

My stomach rumbles hollowly, but I ignore it. I've gone hungry before; it's just unpleasant. Instead of eating or going to sleep, I sit in front of the fire while the world goes dark outside the shanty. I stare into the flames so long that they become imprinted on my eyes, and when I look away all I see are flames.

_Please don't let the rumors be true, Katya. Please tell me you're alright. Please come back for me._

My sister can't be an Avox, can she?


	4. Memories of Silver Scales

** Cass Oceansong **

Far out at sea, the fishing boats start to come back in, their nets full of fish bound for the Capitol. I stand on the docks, watching them, waiting for my father. The wind blows my hair around me like a storm of red flames. My mother's hair.

Mother's at home with the others; I needed some space this morning. Today's the day of the reaping, after all. I can't believe the Capitol is going through with it! I was so sure that they would change their minds, but they haven't. How naïve of me to think that the people who destroyed a district wouldn't send children to their deaths.

A few boats that I know pull alongside the dock; fishermen jump off and secure them with ropes, then start pulling the fish off the decks. One man waves to me good naturedly from where he stands by the Jewel.

"Good morning Miss Cassandra! What brings you down to the docks?"

"Waiting for my father! How's the babe?"

"Pink cheeked and chubby as can be. He'll be alright," he says proudly.

"The name?"

"Garret. For my own father."

"Garret Seawind? That's a fine name, sir," I say. The man, a friend of my father's named Cairn Seawind, smiles broadly.

"Thank you. We thought so too. Anna's still getting used to having a brother, but I think she likes him."

"She'll come around," I say, smiling. "I wasn't too fond of the idea of having a little sister at first, but now I can't imagine life without the two of them."

Cairn chuckles. "I'll take your word for it."

"Oh, I see my father," I say, pointing to the boat with the wooden hull gliding towards the docks. Father waves to me as he steers the boat into port. "I'll let you return to your work," I say. Cairn nods, and turns to go unload the fish, before pausing.

"Good luck today, Miss Cassandra."

My tongue appears to have stopped working; I freeze before recovering myself and saying, "Thank you sir." Cairn nods again, then goes back to his work. A chill goes up and down my whole body, like I've been dunked in winter ice. What on earth is going to happen today?

"What are you doing here, Cass?" Father calls behind me. "The boatyard is no place for a lass like yourself."

Even though I'm a lass like he says, I catch the rope he throws with ease and tie it around one of the pilings. "I'm only two years younger than Sea, and she works with you most mornings," I say.

"She's a young lady now, and we need her to work. I need you to go to school," Father says.

"There's no school this morning, and it's only barely started up again," I say. "Today's Reaping Day."

Pain crosses my father's face, before he smooths it back into its calm façade. "I think we can make an exception today, then. Come on aboard and help me."

Grabbing his hand, I step aboard the Luna, the boat my father had Kerrick Fallman build over twenty years ago. The boards are rougher than when it was first built, and the paint has worn away over time, but it still looks beautiful in my eyes. Some of my first memories are of sailing on this boat in Mother's lap. I remember being very small and seeing jumping silver fish, a rainbow in the sky, the sun shining on the water. And eventually I would always be rocked to sleep by the waves; no worries or cares in the world.

Oh, will I ever feel that safe again?

Together, Father and I unload the fish onto the docks, where fishermen and fisherwomen alike take them away to be processed for the Capitol. Even though the fish are our livelihood, I hate to see them killed. Their scales shine so brightly in the sunlight.

"You get on home, Cass; I need to clean the deck," Father says, kissing my forehead. "Wear something pretty today." His words are light, but I can see the pain in his eyes.

"Don't be long," I say. "Reaping's at noon." With that, I leap off the Luna and land on the dock, taking off for home as fast as I can.

"Cass!" I'm nearly at my street when I skid to a stop, my shoe with the loose sole flapping against the pavement. "Hold up!"

"I'm waiting!" I call; Tempest comes around the corner red faced and out of breath. Her face matches her hair, which makes me laugh.

"I've been trying to catch up to you since you left the docks; you're bloody fast," she gasps.

"What is it? What's the hurry?" I ask.

"Reaping Day," she says, hands on her knees as she tries to catch her breath. "Wanted to wish you luck."

"Thanks," I say, rubbing my soleless shoe against my other leg. "I hate to admit it, but I'm scared."

"I think we all are. Mags doesn't know what's going on, but Da's on his worst temper."

"You be safe, alright?" I say. Tempest and Mags's father's temper has become notoriously short since their mother died, and half the time they're terrified of him.

"I'll get Mags and get out of the house as soon as I get home," she says. "Give my love to your family, and I'll think only good thoughts for you."

"You too. I'll find you today, I promise," I say. We hug quickly, then she takes off towards her own house. I watch her until her red hair goes around a corner and I can't see her anymore. Time to go home.

"There you are, where have you been?" Sea asks as soon as I step through the door.

"Helping Father on the boat."

"Did he need the help or were you just annoying him?"

"He told me to come aboard and help him, so I think he wanted me there," I say, crossing my arms. Sea can be so bossy sometimes.

"Let her alone, Sea," Mother says. "She's home now, and everything's fine." She's wrong, nothing is fine, but I don't say anything, just rub my shoe against my leg again in an attempt to act normal.

"Oh dear, is that shoe getting worse, Cass?" Mother says, glancing down at my loose sole.

"It's nothing," I say, trying to hide it. Even with Mother taking in washing and Father getting his monthly pay from the Capitol for the fishing, we're barely scraping by. There's no money for shoes to be had, so flapping soles must be endured. At least I have shoes; the girls next door go barefoot wherever they go.

"What are you wearing today?" Wave asks from where she sits at the table, eating a piece of bread.

I shrug. "Same as always." District 8, I've heard, was hit the worst of all the districts. If the rumors are true, the whole place was taken out by a fire right near the end of the war, and they're trying to rebuild. Until the factories are up and running, though, there's no cloth for the rest of Panem.

"When everything is open again, I'll make you a dress of green silk," Mother says, lovingly stroking my arm. Her eyes are lined with worry, and her red hair has streaks of grey in it that it didn't have a year ago, but she's still the most beautiful person in the world to me.

"We will all have new clothes when things are back to normal. And shoes besides. Sissy, please stop that racket," Sea says, trying to stop Cressida from bouncing her ball against the wall.

"Let her be; she's alright," Mother says, letting her hand drop. "Come here, Wave, I'll braid your hair."

We all inherited my mother's curly red hair; not one of us girls got Father's dark straight hair. Mine tangles too easily for my taste, but I love being told I look like my mother. Me more so than Sea or Wave or Sissy, who take after Father. After Mother braids Wave's hair into one long braid down her back, she motions for me to come over.

I sit down on the floor in front of her, and she deftly weaves my hair into a complicated braid down my own back. "What sort of a braid is that?" Cressida asks, leaning over to watch my mother.

"A fishtail braid," Mother says. "There, you look beautiful. Sea, would you like yours done?"

"No thank you; I think I'll wear it loose today." I get up off the floor and smooth my dress out the best I can. Blue cotton that I inherited from Sea; it's patched in more places than there's actual fabric, but I don't have another dress. Sea looks worse than I do, and Wave and Sissy have been living in our hand-me-downs for years.

We don't look any worse than anyone else in District 4, though. I dream of the day when we'll all be properly dressed and fed again. I worry about Wave; she's too small for her age, and skinny besides. More days than not, Father brings home a fish or two for supper, but there's a risk in that. He's careful, but if he's caught 'stealing from the Capitol,' he could be flogged in the square, or worse, shot. Two fish don't go a long way when they're small, though, and I often go to bed hungry.

Of course, I'd rather have my father than fish or shoes or dresses. Nothing is worth him being killed for it.

"Where is your father?" Mother frets, checking on the bread that rises on the counter. It smells of yeast and seaweed, and it makes my stomach rumble just at the thought of fresh bread for supper. "He should be home by now."

"He was cleaning the deck when I left," I say.

"Well, he should be home any minute now then."

"Mother?" Wave asks in a small voice.

"Yes?"

"They're not going to pick me, are they?"

Mother's face falls, then she pulls Wave to her tight and doesn't answer for a minute. My throat closes up; I'm so scared for what's going to happen. Even though the reapings are today, I still don't fully believe the Capitol will make children fight to the death. It's just unthinkable.

"I won't let you go," I say, pushing the tears down. "No matter what, I'll make sure you don't have to go."

"Don't you go volunteering for anyone," Sea says. "That's my job if either of you gets reaped."

"Neither of you will," Mother says firmly. "Nobody in this room is going to the Capitol. None of my daughters will be reaped today, or any other day." And she says it so fiercely that I believe it.

"I'm sorry; I was stopped by a patrol," Father says as he steps through the door. "They only just let me go."

"What did they want?" Sea asks, half rising from the table. Cressida's gone silent at last; I don't know if she really understands at six what the stakes are today, and every other day, but she at least understands that we're all worried. I wish I was six again, unaware of the every day worries.

Father sighs, rubbing his face. "They're going to be cracking down on poaching from the Capitol. It's lucky that I didn't have a catch on me today or it could have been bad."

Mother is white and her lips are pressed together again. "Then you mustn't bring the fish, for now at least," she says.

"Then we starve," Father says, slumping down into a chair and leaning his face into his hands. "I don't know what to do, Claire."

"I'll take out tesserae," I say at once. "Then we can get the grain at least." For every person in our family I can take out tesserae, which means more grain, but also six more slips of paper with my name on them in the reaping bowl. Six more chances to be chosen.

"No. None of you is going to take out tesserae," Father says.

"We don't have a lot of options," Sea says. "If anyone's going to take out tesserae, it should be me."

"None of you will take out tesserae!" Father says, standing up so suddenly he knocks the chair over. "It is my duty to provide for all of you, and I will not see my children go to slaughter because I could not protect them. No! Nobody will take out tesserae."

"Kai," Mother says gently, and it's enough to bring Father back to earth. "We have to go."

I glance over at the carved wooden clock that sits on the mantel. My grandfather carved it for my parents' wedding gift; it's a miracle it made it through the war. My grandfather didn't, and I miss him every day. His beautiful clock reads a quarter past eleven. The reaping's at twelve.

"I won't let them take you," I whisper to Wave, and she nods. I won't. No matter what, I'll protect Wave. And if it comes to it, Cressida and Sea as well.

The streets are full as we make our way to the town square, much like they were when the Games were first announced. It's warmer now, though, and the snow is gone. Many of the buildings are being rebuilt, and the roads repaved. District 4 looks like it's being put back together again, which makes me happy; I long for my beautiful home to be the same as before. The presence of the Peacekeepers that line the streets, however, remind me that nothing will ever be the same again.

Wave's hand is in mine when we turn the corner into the square, and her grip tightens when we see the changes that have been made for today. Around the outside of the square there's a tall metal fence, with a Peacekeeper at the gate. Inside the makeshift pen, there appear to be groups of children, divided into ages by shorter fences. Ringed around the outside of the tall fence are the families; grandparents, mothers, fathers, older and younger siblings. People who have no children at risk and are just there because they're required to be stand further back.

"We're not allowed in," Mother says, her eyes flitting from one sight to another; lips still white and pressed together. "You'll have to go in alone."

Wave grows quickly hysterical, letting go of me and grabbing onto Mother. "Come with me! Please!"

"I can't. I can't," Mother says, tears welling up in her own eyes. "If I could, I would. Be brave, and I'll see you when it's over. You'll be fine, I promise." It takes a few minutes more to calm Wave down, though, and when she finally pulls away from Mother, they're both shaking.

I hug Father, and he holds me for a long time. We're all so scared. I hug him, and I hug Mother, and I hug Sea, and I hug Cressida, who is terrified but unsure why. Mother's tears spill over down her cheeks, but she nods at us to go and get in line. "You'll be fine."

The Peacekeeper at the gate questions each child going through, then tells them where to go. The girl behind me is crying, even though she looks a year or two older than me. Wave keeps her hand tightly in mine as we follow Sea in the queue. The line rapidly moves up, until Sea goes through the gate, looking backwards at us only once before walking steadily forward into the slaughteryard.

"Next!" Wave and I step up, hand in hand. "Name?"

"Wave Oceansong," my sister says quietly.

"Age?" The Peackeeper keeps a blank face, and it scares me more than if he was angry at us. Why is he so calm?

"Twelve." Wave's voice shakes a little, but she says it louder than her name.

"Group on the right, by the stage. Next!"

"I'm her sister, can't she stand with me?" I ask, not letting Wave go.

With a quick movement, the Peacekeeper wrenches Wave out of my grasp and throws her through the doors. Another Peacekeeper on the other side catches her and marches her away, while I try not to burst out crying with shock. "Name?"

"Cassandra Oceansong," I say, shaking all over. I need to get to Wave, need to get to Sea, need to get out of here! I think about running to the Luna and sailing away from District 4, until we find a new place to live where everything isn't so horrible.

"Age?"

"Fourteen."

"Fourth group back from the stage, right. Next!"

Not waiting to be thrown through by the Peacekeeper, I go through the gate quickly, my hands in fists to stop the shaking. I pass Sea on the way, who looks at me with wide eyes. A Peacekeeper standing at the fourteen year old section pushes me through the shorter gate, shutting it behind me. Trapped again.

"Cass! Cass!" I push my way through the tightly packed crowd of fourteen year olds until I find Tempest, who's sporting a black eye and is near tears herself.

"What happened to you?" I ask, grabbing her hand tight so we can't be separated.

"Da. Guess the reapings were a bit too stressful and he took to the bottle this morning." Tempest shrugs like it's no big deal. "Mags didn't get any of it, so I don't care much."

"Where is she?" I ask.

"Told her to find your parents. Thought it would be best."

We get pressed closer and closer together as the pens fill up. A lot of people are crying, both inside the gates and outside. I can see mothers holding onto the bars of the fence, reaching through to grab their children's hands. I'm so scared; I've never been this scared, even in the war.

The war was hell on earth, but this is pure chaos. It's unnatural to be put together like this, crushed up against each other. I want to wake up from this nightmare.

Finally, when I think I can't bear it any longer, the gate at the back of the crowd slams shut and Mayor Clawsea walks out on the makeshift stage that someone's constructed outside the Justice Building. "Welcome, District 4, to the First Annual Hunger Games," she says, sounding very unenthusiastic.

When nobody makes any noise, she continues, "As it has been decreed, I will now read the Treaty of Treason, created by our benevolent and merciful Capitol." Tempest grips my hand tighter, and I grip hers back. I close my eyes and block out the words as long as I can, until the last few minutes.

"As a yearly reminder that the Dark Days must never happen again, it has been decreed that on the same day each year the districts must offer up as tributes one courageous young man and woman to fight in a pageant of honor, courage, and sacrifice: The Hunger Games.

The twenty-four tributes will be sent to an outdoor arena where they will struggle to overcome both man and nature and triumph over the odds.  
Each year, the lone victor will serve as a reminder of the Capitol's generosity and forgiveness.

This season is a time for repentance and a time for thanks.  
This is how we remember our past.  
This is how we safeguard our future."

I grit my teeth at the words Mayor Clawsea speaks. Generosity and forgiveness? The Capitol has given us neither of those. We have been starving here in District 4, and now they will take two of us away to die. That does not sound like forgiveness or generosity to me.

"Now, it is my duty and privilege to choose the brave young man and woman who will be representing District 4," Mayor Clawsea says, managing a small smile as the two large glass bowls are brought out and placed on the rickety stage. I stare at them; one has three of my and Tempest's names, five of Sea's, and one of Wave's in it. My knees start to shake and I try to lock them so I don't fall down.

"I will begin by choosing our male tribute," Mayor Clawsea says, walking with crisp and precise steps over to the reaping bowl on her right. She reaches in, takes out a white slip of paper, and walks back to the middle of the stage, speaking loudly so everyone can hear her.

"Rigg Watershire."

Someone, a woman, screams behind us. His mother? A sister? A gate clangs open, and a boy comes out of the fifteen year old pen, walking with careful steps up to the stage, climbing the wooden stairs up onto the platform where Mayor Clawsea stands with the Peacekeepers.

"And you are Rigg Watershire?" she asks uncertainly.

"Yes." The boy looks like many in District 4, with his sun-bleached hair and sturdy build. He's short, probably shorter than me, but he looks like he didn't suffer too much in the war.

"How old are you?" Mayor Clawsea asks.

"Fifteen." Like I thought. The woman has stopped screaming now, but has begun a high-pitched keening noise that tears at my heart.

"Do we have a volunteer for Rigg?" Mayor Clawsea asks, addressing the crowd. There are a few mutters, but nobody steps up to take his place. It's to be expected; who would volunteer for a boy they don't know? This whole affair makes me feel sick.

"Our boy tribute, Rigg Watershire!" Mayor Clawsea claps a little for him, but stops when nobody else joins in. A Peacekeeper pulls the boy back a few steps, making him stagger. I'm impressed at how he's keeping his emotions inside; he must be petrified.

"And now for the girls." The mayor steps to the girls' bowl, pulls out a paper, and walks back to the center of the stage. I think I might throw up; I grit my teeth and will myself to stand upright.

"Wave Oceansong!" Tempest grips my hand so tightly it hurts; my knees finally fail me and I collapse onto the ground, pulling Tempest with me. Someone else screams; Mother. Tempest pulls me back to my feet and I can see her, my little sister, moving from the front pen up the stairs to the stage, her red braid swinging down her back. Small and thin and weak and vulnerable.

I can't let her go.

"How old are you, dear?"

"Twelve." Wave sounds terrified, and I don't blame her. Mother screams again, a sound full of pain. My sister wasn't supposed to be chosen; we were supposed to be safe. We did nothing in the war, so why are we punished now? Please let this not be happening.

"Do we have a volunteer for Wave?" I wait, wait to see if Sea will volunteer for our sister like she said she would, but the square remains eerily silent. Sea isn't volunteering, and our little sister will die in the Capitol because of it. I can't let Wave go.

I pull Tempest in for one last hug; I know I'll never see her again. Her face is white and tears run down her cheeks but she says nothing. One last squeeze of her hand, and I scream, "I volunteer! I volunteer as a tribute!"

My peers pull away from me as much as they can, looking at me in disbelief. I volunteered. Wave is safe. I am not. A Peacekeeper arrives at the gate, unlocking it, and gesturing for me to come with him.

"You're the best friend I could ever have," I say to Tempest, talking quickly. "Tell my parents I love them, and that they shouldn't blame themselves. Tell them all that I love them. Please!" Tempest nods, beyond words, and then the Peacekeeper has my arm and he's dragging me out of the pen and through the short gate.

With careful steps in my flapping shoes, I walk up to the stage amidst the sound of screaming and crying. As soon as I get onto the stage, Wave runs into my arms, sobbing.

"You didn't have to! Cass, no!" she moans, her tears making the front of my dress damp.

"I told you I'd keep you safe. I love you, I love you so much; you'll be okay, I promise, I promise Wave; don't forget me!"

"You're going to come home! You have to!"

"I'll try," I whisper, and then Wave is pulled away from me by a Peacekeeper; she screams, and I'm crying, and the world is weeping for me and Rigg, because neither of us is ever going to see our families again. From where I stand on the stage, I can see a glimpse of the ocean; I'm never going to see that again, or sail on the Luna, or see the silver scaled fish pulled into the nets…

Oh god, I'm going to die.

"How old are you?" Mayor Clawsea asks, not unkindly. I'm the first volunteer, and I suppose I'm a bit of a novelty because of it.

In a voice barely better than a whisper I answer, "Fourteen."

"And your name?"

"Cass Oceansong."

"Our tributes for the first Hunger Games! Rigg Watershire and Cass Oceansong!" Again she claps, but nobody else joins in. I stare out for the last time at my home, at my friends, and at my family. I can see my mother and father from where I stand; their faces are streaked with tears; my mother is leaning on my father, who looks like he's been struck.

I can see Sea, crying into her hands, Wave who's been escorted back to right below the stage and is sobbing hysterically. Even Tempest, whose red hair and pale face stick out amongst all the other people our age. I'll never see them again, never, ever, ever, and the realization of it hurts like someone's driven a blunt knife through my chest and dug a deep pit in my stomach.

Suddenly, someone grabs my wrists and pulls them behind me, locking something cold and metal onto them. I twist my head and see that Rigg has been restrained too, by a pair of Peacekeepers who keep their faces blank. How evil do you have to be to take children away from their parents?

"Mother! Father!" I scream. My braid falls over my shoulder, the elaborate braid that my mother so nimbly created. My last piece of her. "I love you! I love you!"

Father lets Mother go and grabs the bars of the gate, rattling them. Two Peacekeepers come and push him backwards; he stumbles but catches himself before he falls. "Cass!" he screams. I have never heard him sound like that; scared and sad and desperate all at once. He cried when my grandfather died, but nothing like this. The pit in my stomach grows deeper and deeper.

"I love you!" I scream back; the cuffs bite into my skin and it hurts, but not as much as what's happening right now; it's a nightmare. A living nightmare, worse than anything that happened during the war.

"Come home!" It's a plea, something that my father has never made to me before.

I almost choke on my tears. "I will!" I scream, then whisper to myself, "I will." Then the Peacekeepers pull me backwards and spin me around, marching Rigg and me into the Justice Building. I turn my head to watch my family as long as I can through my blurry eyes, before the doors swing closed and I can't see them anymore.


	5. First Tribute

** Silver Bellcreek **

The heat of the loft wakes me before anything else does; it's the hottest July I can remember. Beside me, Shine lies asleep; her hair braided and lying across her pillow, the covers half off so I can see the white of her nightgown. It's only when she's sleeping that I can really get a good look at my sister. She's younger when she's asleep; she could pass for ten right now. I wonder how old I look when I'm asleep.

I push the quilts off and dangle my leg off the side of the bed. It's July 4! It's Reaping Day, and honestly, I'm excited. I don't think many other people are, even those who support the Capitol, but I am. I'd like to see the Capitol, see how badly it was damaged compared to District 1. I heard that the rebels cut off the food lines and starved the Capitol during the uprising, isn't that terrible? I hope the Capitol has food now, like we do.

Somebody stirs downstairs; it's probably Mum. She gets up early to make breakfast and do some of the chores, but since it's Reaping Day she's up earlier than usual. Father's up before her most days, since he's a goldsmith by trade and the business he works at is on the opposite side of the district. The trip there takes long enough, besides factoring in all the construction that's going on. We're getting lucky here in 1 with our buildings getting restored better and faster than in other districts. That's what I've heard the Peacekeepers saying, anyway.

Well, there's no point lying in bed when there's an exciting day to be had! I roll out of bed onto the hard wood floor, and take off through the curtain and down the stairs.

"Silver! You startled me!" Mum says, laughing. "Good morning, sweetheart. Are you ready for today?"

"More than ready!" I say, swinging off the bannister. "Did you get our dresses done in time?" Mum's bleary eyes tell me she has, but I can't help asking anyway.

"I did," she says. "They're in my room, so you'll have to wait until your father is up to get them."

"How'd you manage to get fabric for dresses anyway?" I ask, plunking myself down at the round kitchen table. The smell of tea and baking fills the air, giving the room a happy aura.

Mum checks the oven, then says, "I was down in the Key looking if I could get sugar any cheaper there, and I found two dresses for almost nothing. I just took them in and hemmed them up a little, and I think they should fit you and Shine perfectly." She smiles at me. "I want you two to look beautiful today. You're making history after all!"

I grin back at her, then tap my fingers on the table nervously. "What would you say if Shine or I were chosen today?"

Mum thinks it over, not saying anything for a moment. "I'd miss you very much, and I'd be worried about you of course, but I know you two can take care of yourselves."

"And if I chose to go?" I ask, daring to voice the thought I've been having since the Games were announced.

"If you don't have to participate, I'd rather you didn't," Mum says, coming around behind my chair and wrapping her arms around me tight. "Not unless you have a very good reason to go, I don't think you should. You're too young still. Let's see how this year plays out and how it all works, and maybe you can think about it when you're eighteen."

"Alright," I say. Maybe sixteen is a little young to go.

"Besides, I don't see why you'd want to compete, fighting against a bunch of little rebel mongrels," Mum says, letting me go and walking over to the window to open the curtains. "I hate the idea of you killing a child, even if it is a rebel."

"If I went this year, then I'd go down in history, Mum," I say. "Victor of the First Hunger Games? I'd be famous!"

"And how far will fame get you, Silver?" Mum asks, raising an eyebrow. "Better to live a good and honest life that's quiet, than to get famous for murdering other people."

"I thought you thought the Games were a good idea," I say.

"They are, for keeping the rebels in line. Not for my daughter."

Father comes out of the bedroom that's just off of the kitchen, yawning. "Good morning," he says, his voice still thick with sleep. I stifle a giggle at the sight of his hair, standing upright on his head. His beard isn't any better.

"Morning!" I sing out. "It's Reaping Day!"

"So it is," Father says pleasantly, but he doesn't sound too pleased about it. I'm nervous and excited and so many other things all rolled into one.

"Shine! Glint! Time to get up!" Mum shouts up the stairs.

"You'll have to shake Glint awake; he's a heavy sleeper," I say, pouring hot water from the tea kettle into a cup. Tea is still ridiculously hard to find, and I guess it will be for a while, but Mum found some in the Key the other day. The Key is a little like District 1's upper-class black market; I don't know where the rest of the people go. That's where Mum got the dresses, sugar, this tea, and a whole lot of other things. It's been a real lifesaver throughout the uprising and after.

It turns out that Mum doesn't need to shake Glint awake; he and Shine come down on their own, yawning and blinking sleep away. "About time," I say, blowing on the hot cup.

"It's still early," Shine says, brushing back a piece of hair that's come loose from her blonde braid. Then she grins. "Ready for today?"

"You bet I am!" I say, grinning back. "I can hardly wait to see who gets picked to represent District 1."

"Remember girls, it's not a game; real people are going to die," Mum says, pouring a cup of tea for both her and Father.

"Mum, it's the Hunger _Games_. Of course it's a game!" I say.

"I have supported the Capitol throughout my life, and I will continue to do so, but it does not mean I support children being sent to death. I hope it's a one year thing, where all the rebels are reminded that the Capitol is stronger than them, and then it can end."

"I'm not a fan of it myself," Father says, sipping the cup Mum hands him and grimacing. "Or of this tea. Rather weak isn't it, Meg?"

"That's all the Key has," Mum says. "Unless you'd like to find some more somewhere else, that's what we're stuck with."

"Whoever grows the tea better get their act together soon; I doubt the Capitol will tolerate weak tea for long," Father says, taking another sip and making a face.

"I'm sure tea is their top priority," I say.

"Don't be cheeky, Silver," Father says.

"Shine, Mum's got those dresses ready for us," I say, changing the subject. "The ones she got from the Key?"

"Can we see?" Shine asks, her eyes lighting up. It's been so long since we've had new dresses; today is a proper occasion! Glint ignores us, choosing to turn his full attention to a piece of toast instead. He's never been one to get excited for clothes.

"Shine, if you go into the bedroom, you'll see them folded on the dresser," Mum says. Shine takes off immediately, her long nightgown tripping her as she goes. It used to be mine, but I outgrew it, somehow. I'm still so small, but at least I'm bigger than Shine, who's barely taller than Glint. And he's three years younger!

"Got them!" Shine calls and comes back out of our parents' bedroom carrying the two dresses. "I think this one's yours; it's bigger," she says, handing off one to me.

"Oh, Mum, it's beautiful!" I say, holding the dress up in front of me. It's a dark plum color, with a lighter purple sash around it, and it's so, so soft. "Thank you!"

"You two will look beautiful today," Mum says, beaming at us. "Finish your breakfasts and then you can go put them on and do your chores."

I can hardly wait, but I do what she tells me to do and sit back down, the dress over one knee. I will be the most beautiful girl in District 1- no! In all of Panem!

The clock ticks closer to eleven, which is when we all leave. Our chores are done, the beds are made, and we're all dressed. I turn this way and that in the long mirror that hangs in the hallway. "Isn't it just beautiful, Shine?" I say.

Shine's dress is dark green, which sets off her hair quite nicely. We're both wearing our hair curly and loose today; it's nice to match sometimes, don't you think? Glint comes downstairs, his hair brushed to the side and dressed over formally for a boy who's not even in the reaping this year.

"You two look ridiculous," he says, leaning over the bannister.

"Well, we don't have a part in our hair the size of a river," Shine says, and we both laugh. Glint glares at us before stomping the rest of the way down the stairs.

"Shine, Silver! Are you ready to go?" Mum calls, coming out from the bedroom.

"More than," I say, taking one last turn in the mirror before pulling my black shoes on at the door.

Once our shoes are all on, Father lines the three of us up, and smiles. "Here're my beautiful children. Let's go show everyone how proud we are to support the Capitol, shall we?" The three of us nod; Father rubs the top of Glint's head, mussing his hair up. Frankly, it looks better mussed than it did parted. "Time to head out," Father says cheerfully, opening the door wide and shooing Glint through.

Father, Shine and Glint go out the door, but Mum holds me back. "Wait a moment, Silver. I want to talk to you."

"Am I in trouble?"

"No, nothing like that." Mum takes my face in her hands and looks at me long and hard. "I don't know what's going to happen today, and if you do get chosen, I want you to know that I love you so, so much. I'm so proud of you, Silver, and of what a wonderful young woman you've become."

I smile a little shyly. I'm not used to getting praise like this. "Thanks."

"Now, if you do get chosen to go to the Capitol, I'd like you to wear this," she says, pulling a chain out of her pocket. When she holds it up in front of me, I see a tiny diamond hanging from the golden chain. "It was your grandmother's, my mother's. She gave it to me when I was married, but I want you to have it for today."

Carefully, gently, Mum fastens the chain around my neck. The tiny diamond rests just below my collarbone; the whole necklace is so light I can hardly feel it. "Thank you!" I say, throwing my arms around Mum. She hugs me back for a moment, then pulls back, smiling.

"Let's go catch up with the others; I'm sure they're wondering where we've gone." My mother takes my hand in hers, even though I'm sixteen years old, and we go out the door, to where the rest of my family waits in the street. Shine's eyes immediately narrow in on my sparkling necklace, but she doesn't say anything.

My feelings bubble up inside of me, like I'm full of happiness from top to bottom. And how can I not be? Today is the most exciting day of my life so far, plus the sun is shining and I have a new dress and a new necklace to show off. I'm the luckiest girl in District 1, I think.

The people around me are a bit more subdued than my family is, with a few exceptions. You can really tell who supported who in the war; the Capitol supporters smile and look a bit brighter than the rebel sympathizers, who watch the ground with downcast faces as they walk.

"Can we race to the square?" Shine asks.

"No, stay with us," Father says. "We don't know the procedure and we don't want to break the rules." Glint stays back with our parents, holding Father's hand, while Shine and I walk ahead of them. Glint can be such a baby sometimes, walking with that pouting lip of his. Today's not all about him, but too bad! He'll get to participate in two years.

I gasp when Shine and I enter the square; everything's changed so much for today! Banners with the Capitol seal on them hang off of the bank building; a stage has been constructed in front of the Justice Building, and most impressive of all, there's a tall metal fence enclosing half of the square, with a Peacekeeper letting kids through.

"I guess that's where we go," I say, looking over at Shine. Her eyes are wide.

"Alright, give me a hug and go on through," Mum says, catching up to us. I hug her and Father, who pats my head fondly.

"Good luck, be good," he says.

"You know I will," I say. I don't hug Glint; I poke him on the side of the head instead. He sticks his tongue out at me in return.

"Both of you, behave," Mum says. "Good luck, and I'll see you after."

"Love you!" I sing out, grabbing Shine's hand and walking towards where the line to go in starts.

"Silver! Wait up!"

I whip my head around to see Flaire pushing her way through the crowd to me. Accompanying her is her bossy older sister Silk and younger but less annoying brother Ruble. I don't see their parents anywhere; they're probably back with the rest of the adults.

"Flaire!" I say, throwing my arms around my friend. "Isn't this exciting?"

"It's a travesty, that's what this is," Silk says, looking at me down her nose. She's eighteen, just on the cusp of not being eligible.

"What do you mean?"

"Making us send two children away to fight? It's absolutely horrible."

"Oh, lighten up Silk," I say. "Today is a day that will go down in history! And we can say that we were there! The reapings of the very first Hunger Games!"

"And hopefully the last," Silk says.

"Come on, Flaire; she's going to bring us down," I say, grabbing Flaire's hand with the one that isn't holding Shine's, and I pull both of them into the lineup. Silk moves to follow us, but a bunch of other people push in front of her, effectively cutting her off.

"Shine, you go ahead of us," I say, setting my sister in front of Flaire and me. "Flaire and I will go in together."

Shine looks back at me and rolls her eyes. "You just want me to go away."

"Course I don't. I'll see you after the reapings, okay?"

"Fine." Shine turns and faces the front, walking forwards slowly like the rest of us as each person goes through the gate.

"Are you excited?" I ask Flaire. She's awfully pale today; I hope she's not sick.

"I thought I would be," Flaire starts.

"But?"

"I'm terrified, Silver," she says, her voice dropping to a whisper. "This isn't fun at all; I don't want to get picked, and I don't want to go to the Capitol."

"You're as bad as Silk," I say, keeping my own voice light. "Odds are, it's going to be a rebel kid who gets chosen this year."

"But it's random."

"You know these things are never random," I say. I throw my arms around my best friend and lean my head on her shoulder. "You'll see, everything will be just fine today. It's history in the making!"

"I hope you're right," Flaire says, briefly leaning her head on mine, and then it's Shine's turn to go through the gate. My small little sister walks through more confidently than the eighteen year old that went right before her. There, she's showing everyone what a Capitol supporter should look like- brave, confident, and in addition to that, beautiful.

"I'll go first," I say to Flaire, pulling away from her.

"What's your name then?" the Peacekeeper woman asks. My eyes go first to the gun on her hip, then to her face. She's young for a Peacekeeper, easily early twenties.

"Silver Bellcreek."

She checks the clipboard that's attached to the side of the fence. "Age sixteen?"

"Yes, that's me."

"Sixth group from the stage on the right. Easy to find." She gives me a small smile, like she knows I'm a Capitol loyalist, and I return it easily. See? Nothing to worry about if you're on the right side.

"Sixteen year old girls, sixteen year olds here!" an older male Peacekeeper shouts, standing by a shorter gate.

"That's me!" I say. He scowls at me and roughly pushes me through the gate so that I stumble.

"Hey! I'm on your side you know!" I say, catching myself before I fall. He doesn't even look over, just pushes a girl along after me. Rude.

I hover near the entrance until Flaire arrives; she manages to get through the gate without being pushed. "He's not very nice, if you haven't guessed that already," I say.

"I gathered." Flaire's face has gotten even paler, if that's possible. Every freckle is standing out boldly against the white of her skin.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm scared and worried about Silk and Ruble. How are you keeping so calm?" Flaire asks.

"I'm not nervous at all," I say. "Not even one bit."

"Lucky."

The square gets more and more full by the minute. Everyone in District 1 is here today, something that hasn't happened since the Games were announced months ago. My stomach feels odd, like it's full of butterflies; I think it's just because I'm so excited. Or nervous. Both of them I think.

Finally, finally! The gate closes at the back and Athie Cumberslip, our mayor, steps out onto the stage. "Hello District 1, and welcome to the first reapings of the Hunger Games!"

I clap, alongside a few other people scattered throughout the square. I guess not a lot of people are happy about the Games, probably the ones who had to take out tesserae. Rebel sympathizers, more like.

While Athie Cumberslip talks, my thoughts slip back in time, to when the rebellion first started. I was twelve, just about thirteen, I believe. Things hadn't been too good for a little while, and there was a lot of suspicion about who wanted to overthrow the Capitol, and who didn't. A lot of loyalists hid who they supported, but we never did. Never!

I was sitting in school, in my classroom with the yellow walls and dark wood floors, where everyone had a desk to themselves. I sat next to Glass Coramund on one side, and Flaire had the seat ahead of me, so the three of us could pass notes to each other.

It was in the middle of math- or history or spelling, I can't remember which- when the windows blew out. A boy sitting by them got blinded; I wonder what happened to him; I don't even recall his name anymore. Anyway, the windows blew out, and my classmates and I were screaming and hiding under our desks.

Our teacher, who later died during the war, got us all out of the schoolhouse before it blew up. I heard that it was an accident, that the explosives were put there by mistake by a stupid rebel who was trying to blow up the train station. They got that too, that same day, but the destruction of the schoolhouse was the first big action of the uprising that I witnessed.

If they would kill children, their own children, how much different can the Hunger Games be, then? I think it's fair payback to the rebels who destroyed the schoolhouse and blinded that poor boy. It's just fair.

"Silver," Flaire whispers in my ear, poking me and bringing me back to the present. "They're going to pull the names."

"Sorry, lost in thought. What did I miss?"

"The reading of the Treaty of Treason."

Mayor Cumberslip says, "And now, to chose our first girl tribute!" My heart pounds in my chest; I don't know right now if I want it to be me or not. Flaire grabs my hand and we hold onto each other tight as the mayor walks across the stage to pull the thin, white, slip of paper out of the bowl. I put five slips into that same bowl on April 1st. Who is it? Who is it?

Clearing her throat, Mayor Cumberslip opens the folded paper and reads it first to herself. "Flaire Moreau!"

Next to me, Flaire shrieks and bursts into tears all at once. "No, no!"

"It's okay, it's okay, you can do this," I say, still holding onto my best friend tight. Out of the corner of my eye I see Glass Coramund, watching us with almost a smug expression on her face. _It should have been her, not Flaire._

"I can't, I can't!" A Peacekeeper, the grumpy one from before, bangs the gate to our section open; our former classmates press to either side, making a clear path for Flaire to go out. "No, I can't!"

"Let's go!" he barks.

"One second!" I say, trying to get Flaire to stop crying. "Flaire, come on, you can do this!" I've never seen her like this before, and it's scaring me more than anything. She's been picked, she's the first Hunger Games tribute from District 1, and she doesn't even want it. She's not a rebel, she's a loyalist! So why did they choose her?

 _"If you don't have to participate, I'd rather you didn't. Not unless you have a very good reason to go."_ Mum's words go around and around my head. I know what I can do, what I have to do to save Flaire, who wouldn't last five minutes in the Capitol. I just hope everyone can forgive me when I come back.

"I volunteer as tribute!" I say loudly, making every head in District 1 swivel towards me. "I volunteer to take Flaire Moreau's place as tribute."

"Silver! No, no, don't!" Flaire says, squeezing my hand tight. "I'll go, don't die for me!"

"I'm not going to die, Flaire," I say, the pounding in my chest getting stronger. "Give my family my love, okay? I'll come back, I'll come back and everything will be fine."

"Let's go!" the Peacekeeper says, finally having run out of patience. I hug Flaire tight for just a second before he grabs my arm and pulls me from my best friend. Flaire's face is streaked with tears; I want to cry too, just a little, but I'm not going to. I'm the tribute!

"You can let me go; I'll walk!" I say, pulling my arm away from the Peacekeeper. He's not very nice, that's for sure, but he lets me walk the rest of the way to the stage by myself. Everyone is dead quiet as I climb the stairs and go to stand next to Mayor Cumberslip.

The look in her eyes surprises me, like she's truly sorry to see me on this stage. She does know me, after all; my parents and her are friends. "What's your name, dear?" she asks, even though she knows it. Nobody else does, though, but they will now.

"Silver Bellcreek," I say loudly. If my heart doesn't stop beating so hard, I think I might pass out. That might happen anyway; too much has happened in too short a time. No tears, though.

"How old are you?"

"I'm sixteen years old."

"Silver, you may step back." I nod, and move backwards a little, to give the mayor space. I look out over all the people of District 1, my people, and I find my parents at the back. I can't see them very well, but just the sight of them makes me feel a little better. Searching the sections within the square, I see Shine, whose face is also streaked with tears, which surprises me. My sister would cry for me?

A few sections over, there's Silk Moreau, who is blank faced, and on the other side, Ruble, whose eyebrows are raised. And of course I can see Flaire, still crying. And even Glass, who looks- dare I say it? - impressed.

I'm the first girl tribute of District 1! The elation of knowing I'm going to go down in history competes with the nervousness and yes, terror, that I'm feeling all at once. While I wrestle with how to feel, Mayor Cumberslip has stepped over to the bowl holding all the boys' names. I hope it's not Ruble; I don't want Flaire to have to lose me and her brother all in one day.

"Glow Overlock!" On the boy's side at the very back, all the boys around this Glow pull away, letting him leave the section and walk up to the stage confidently. He looks like most of the people here in District 1; dark blonde hair, and as he gets closer, I can see he has the classic blue eyes too. He looks like he's recovered splendidly from the war. Not many people look as strong as he does.

"I'm your tribute, don't any of you volunteer for me!" he calls out over the crowd the minute he gets onto the stage. "I'm your victor!"

Well, we know where he stands, don't we?

"Glow Overlock?" Mayor Cumberslip asks. He nods.

"That's me."

"Age?"

"Eighteen." So he's two years older than me. No wonder I don't know him.

"District 1, I give you your tributes! Silver Bellcreek and Glow Overlock!" On impulse, I grab Glow's hand, linking the two of us briefly as a team. As soon as I take his hand, he drops mine and turns away from me.

"Procedure, we're going to have to restrain you," someone says behind me; I turn to see four Peacekeepers, two of which are holding metal cuffs. The other two hold guns.

Something turns in my stomach; this isn't what I was expecting. "I'm not going to run anywhere; I volunteered to be here," I say, but my voice comes out quivery. Suddenly, all I want is to run down those steps, through the gate, and back into Mum's arms. I feel automatically for the necklace she gave me; I hope she doesn't mind me taking it to the Capitol.

"Sorry miss, but rules are rules."

"Okay." The Peackeepers holding the cuffs simultaneously grab Glow and me, pulling our arms behind our backs and fastening the metal onto our wrists. Even though they're gentle, I'm starting to really get terrified.

"Come with us," the Peacekeeper who cuffed me says. He sounds kind, but I'm a little scared of him too. I look back once, just once at my family, who are pressed against the gate now, watching me. I smile widely for them, so that they know I'll be back. Then my Peacekeeper takes my arm and gently leads me into the Justice Building.

"Where are we going?" I ask, following along behind the Peacekeepers; two in front, two behind, and Glow and I in the middle. A tribute sandwich.

"The train station, miss." The train station? Oh, of course, how else are we going to get to the Capitol? I start to feel a little excited again; maybe the train will be one of those new kinds, with nice seats by the windows so that I can watch Panem go by. I think that might be nice!

The road to the train station is deserted today, probably by design. We're not District 6 by any means, where all they do is transportation, but we do ship off our pretty things to the Capitol every day. Flaire and I like to come and watch the trains leave with all the gold and diamonds and things like that. The train station and the tracks were one of the first things that got repaired after District 13 fell.

"Here's your train," says my Peacekeeper. I step back, almost stepping on one of their boots. This? This is the train I'm going to be riding on? It's a cargo train, like so many of the ones I've seen go by the district before. Each compartment locked with padlocks, like usual.

"No, you have to be mistaken. That's for cargo," I say.

One of the other Peacekeepers, an older man, smirks. "You're the cargo today, lovely." Another Peacekeeper takes out a key and opens the door, a creaky wooden thing that looks like it's full of splinters. The smell that comes from inside the compartment is dusty, mildewy, and rank.

"Good luck in the Capitol you two," my Peacekeeper says, pushing me along while another pushes Glow forward. "You'll be getting some new friends soon, don't you worry." When I don't make any move to climb into the train, I'm hoisted from behind and practically thrown inside, landing on my arm in an awkward and painful way. Glow doesn't go this route; he climbs up beside me.

"Bon voyage!" the older Peacekeeper says, laughing, then slams the door shut, leaving me and Glow in darkness.

_What have I done?_


	6. Runner

** Oak Peacewood **

The boy whose shanty is next to mine coughs for what seems like the millionth time. It's barely dawn, and I haven't slept much at all; whooping cough or something similar has been rampaging around the Sap. With my luck I'll get it next.

I'd rather hear them cough than hear the wailing, though, like I heard two days ago when that little girl died from the sickness. Her mum screamed until her voice gave out and turned into whimpers. I've hardened myself against the death that's surrounded me for the past three years, but I'll admit that I mourned that little girl. She was a sweet thing, always toddling around after her older brother. Probably no more than two or three.

No use sleeping in, I suppose. At least I don't have to head over and play friendly with my work team today. Today's July 4th, isn't it exciting? Not. It's Reaping Day. There's got to be some eligible kids in here; I wonder if one of them will be chosen. I think more than a few people think that the Capitol won't go through with their little Hunger Games, but what do they know? I've seen what the Capitol is capable of, and I can tell you that they are more than happy to sentence kids to death.

They've done worse with less provocation.

I don't think I'll stick around today. I'm bound to get my name called, what with the tesserae I took out for myself, and the fact that I'm a Peacewood. All these factors combined have almost guaranteed me a place in the Games. I've been planning to leave for weeks now, but I've been holding out, waiting. I can't wait any longer, though.

Katya isn't coming.

I roll off the bed, if you can even call it that, and shove the planks up. It rained last night, making the ground spongy and moist. The dirt sticks to my fingers when I pull my chest up from the ground. It reminds me a little of the chocolate cake Mom made for me when I was nine or ten. God that memory hurts.

Brushing the past and the dirt away, I pull out my treasures. Katya's ring goes on my finger, my mother's necklace around my neck. I slip my father's watch into my pocket, alongside the doll that I can't bring myself to leave behind. Pulling my hair back, I tie the blue ribbon into it, making me feel even just a little pretty again. I haven't felt that way in a long time.

I look at the picture of the four of us again, then pull the photograph out of the frame and fold it up to put in my pocket. I don't need the frame, not where I'm going. I put the frame back into the chest, then rebury both of them. Maybe one day I'll come back for them, maybe I won't. The hunk of bread and the apple I got yesterday go in my pocket too, alongside two pecuniae coins. I'll have to leave the pillow behind, but I roll the quilt up and stick it under my arm.

Time to go.

One look back at the place I've lived the past few months. It's not home; home will always be Cherry Lane. Then I walk away, leaving the buried chest and the pillow behind. Someone else will enjoy it, I'm sure.

People are just starting to wake up as I walk by, my dirty boots making little sound on the cracked road. The rest of District 7 is still a mess, but they're at least trying to fix it up. Nobody cares about the Sap.

A little boy peers out from behind the tarp that makes his roof and walls. His blue eyes are overly large in his dirty face, reminding me of another little boy I saw when I went through the districts with my parents. His eyes were blue too, until they closed forever.

Move on, Oak. Forget and move on.

The Sap ends a mile or two later, past the shanties and the sick and dying. I see a girl, a young woman really, lying like a dropped doll on the side of the road, her pregnant stomach leaning away from her as she stares emptily into space. Nobody cries for her. Soon the men and women self designated as the undertakers will take her away and bury her in the woods, just like everyone else who dies in the Sap.

The people of District 7 die and are buried in the old cemetery; the people of the Sap are forgotten in the woods. Everyone knows that those who live in the Sap are only district in name; in everything else we're outsiders. Me more than anyone.

The road turns from cracked and ruined stone to rubble to dirt, and there the woods meet the Sap. I look back at what I'm leaving behind. It's not much, is it? A desolate shanty town and a district that hates me. Why on earth did my mother want me to come back?

It's not like Katya would have come back anyway.

"Halt!" I pull my foot back from the step I've taken into the woods, and turn to see two Peacekeepers who have materialized out of nowhere, aiming their guns at me. I put the hand that isn't holding the quilt up in the air.

"Yes?"

"Name, address," the man barks. It's a male Peacekeeper and a female Peacekeeper today, and neither of them seems friendly. Like any of them are, but anyway. What are they doing in the Sap?

"Oak; I live in a shanty that way," I say, nodding with my head. Like hell I'm giving them my last name.

"And where are you headed?" the woman asks. Both of them seem a little trigger happy to me, and that makes me nervous. Nobody would care if a seventeen year old girl got gunned down at the edge of the Sap. Especially if that girl is a Peacewood.

"A walk in the woods. It's Reaping Day; thought I should get out in nature while I can," I say as calmly as I can. I don't look away from the man's eyes; I stare him down with all the ferocity I have inside me.

"With a quilt?" he says, looking down at the blanket I hold under my arm.

"It was cold and I don't have a jacket," I say, still calm, although inside I'm very, very nervous.

"I'd suggest that you make your way home, Oak," he says, also dangerously calm. "Wouldn't want to lose a girl on Reaping Day, now do we?"

"I'm not intending to get lost," I say.

"Everyone's presence is required in the square at noon," the woman says. "Why don't I walk you back home so you can for sure be on time?"

"I can walk myself, thank you very much."

"I insist." I flick my gaze to look into her eyes; they're a light blue, almost colorless, and hard as stone. I could make a run for it now, but that just destroys my plan, and would likely get me killed in the process.

"Alright," I say. What else am I supposed to do?

"Nero, you go that way; I'll escort her," the woman says to the man. He jerks his head in a nod, lowers his gun, and walks away to the left. Off to patrol and terrorize more people I suppose. The woman lowers her own gun slightly, then motions for me to come with her.

"Reapings at noon, don't you forget that," she says as we walk back along the road I tried to leave by.

"I won't. I doubt anyone will," I say bitterly.

"And nobody should," she says. After that, she falls silent, and so do I as we walk the road of the Sap, a straight and narrow pile of rubble. It takes a while in stifling silence, but we finally arrive back at my shanty- the very place I was trying to escape. Bloody Peacekeepers, always ruining my plans. As soon as she leaves, you can bet I'm going to book it into the nearest wooded entrance.

"Well, this is mine," I say, stepping to the side. People are staring; it's not every day you see a Peacekeeper in here. The woman stops with crisp movements and turns to look at me.

"I'll look for you at the reaping this afternoon," she says, her words as cold as her eyes. "Peacewoods are not exempt from the reaping, as you might know."

She does know who I am. "I know."

"In the case that you are not in attendance, I would fear for your neighbors here. I would hate to see something terrible happen to them at dusk." Nodding her head once, the woman turns and walks away, back in the direction of the district.

The people whose shanties are by mine stare, until I meet their eyes and they pull back into their tarps and metal and wood. Damn it, I hate the Capitol. I hate the Capitol! Blackmailing me into staying, when we all know I'm likely to be chosen for their Hunger Games. If I leave, I'll probably be caught, now that they're on the look out for me, and the Sap people will be murdered.

I'll have to stay. I'm not callous enough to make them die for me.

I keep my things in my pocket, however. If I get the chance to get out later, then I'm going to take it. If I show up at the reaping, then they'll have no reason to punish the Sap, and then I can get out of the common while the expected chaos goes on. Of course, reason didn't exactly stop the Capitol from blowing up District 13.

I sit down on my bed, spread the quilt over my knees, and bury my face in it, trying to gather up some smell of home. All I smell is dust, dirt, and a little mildew. The past is gone, and all that remains are the memories I carry.

Memories like the trip out of the district, well over a year ago. I can hear the rattling of the train wheels even now; I remember every word my mother said to me that night.

_"Come on, hurry Oak! We can't miss it; it's not going to slow down for you or me or any of us."_

_"So we're jumping," I say, bouncing on the balls of my feet. All around me are the rebels that volunteered to go with us. The others are staying behind, to defend the district against the Capitol. But I, I am going with my mother to the Capitol itself, and we are going to bring it down together._

_"Sky, some of the others are getting nervous about this mission," someone, a man says. I can't see him in the dark._

_"It's coming, I know it's coming," my mother says, and just as the last words leave her lips, the rattling starts. My heart beats faster as the noise grows louder and louder. A single headlight appears in the distance, coming closer, until the train is upon us. Mom grabs my hand and pulls me forward; I jump and land in the cargo hold of the train; others have apparently done the same, because I hear hooting and laughing._

_"You see? We're on our way," Mom says, and a few people cheer. I can see the stars overhead, blurring as we go by; I think I can see the outlines of trees too, but I can't be sure. This is my first time leaving the district, and it's both exhilarating and terrifying. I really feel like a rebel now, like I'm doing something to help get our freedom._

_"How do you feel?" Mom asks me._

_"A little bit of everything," I say. "This is it, isn't it?"_

_"It is." The last mission. She whispers, "As long as we have the passion and the fire of the districts behind us, we can't lose, Oak. We're going to win this war."_

_"And we'll see Dad again? And Katya?"_

_"We'll be all together again, in the new world we're going to make," my mother says, and I can hear the confidence in her voice. We will win the war, and we'll be together as a family once again._

And then we didn't win. The war ended after three years, and I never did see my father again. I saw Katya, once. Once while we were there. But we never were all together again like my mother promised.

Isn't it foolish of me to think about broken promises now, promises made on a train in the dead of night? Promises that couldn't help but be broken? My mother, the eternal optimist; where did optimism get her? It got her a grave somewhere outside the Capitol, a grave that I will never see.

The war cost me everything, but I can't say that I regret it. I regret the outcome, but I don't regret the war itself; the Capitol needed to be stood up to. It fears the districts now, and that makes me at least slightly smug on the inside. I helped make the Capitol afraid, I cut their supply lines, I made them starve and cry and despair.

I suppose it's my turn now.

Slowly, the sun goes up until it's nearly overhead. Already people are shuffling by my shanty, making their way out of the Sap and into the district itself. Good, infect the rest of the place with the whooping cough; that will go over well with the officials. Bloody idiots, the lot of them.

I roll the quilt up tight and tie it like that with a long strip of tarp I rip off the roof. Using another long strip, I tie the quilt to my back, then leave my shanty, blending in with the crowd of people already trickling out.

The sheer number of hopeless looking people overwhelm me as I trudge along with them. This, these people are who we fought alongside and for! These defeated people, who are crushed under the Capitol's thumb, are who we wanted to liberate. Freedom, that's what we fought for. That's what my family died for. And now we're worse off than before; no wonder they despise me.

Nobody looks well fed; every person I see has sunken eyes and sharp angles to their face, a look only hunger can give you. A few people stare at me, with what? Curiosity? Hatred? But most let their eyes slide over me, like I don't even exist. I'm not sure which is worse.

The herd of humanity that I'm swept along in turns a corner, and there is the common; a large open space in the center of the district. Who knows how far the rest of the district had to travel to get here on time for twelve? District 7 is large, with the mills in the south and south-west, the dam in the north-east, and the forests cover the rest. I don't know how many people are left here, though. So many died in the war.

My mouth drops open at the sight of the common; when the rebellion was crushed, and I got back here, the first thing I saw was Jack Kirhorn and Molly Loren, the two who were put in charge of managing the district in our absence, get shot through the head while cameras filmed the whole thing. I saw worse later, but I push the thought away. But when Jack and Molly were killed, the common was open.

Now, there's a fence, probably twenty feet high, encircling the common, with a Peacekeeper at the only gate, letting children through. Damn, there goes my escape route. Maybe I won't get called, maybe they will make it random. Not likely.

A Peacekeeper with a train horn voice shouts, "Eligibles! Eligible tributes here!" Around me, mothers kiss their children, while they all hold back tears. I don't cry; I don't have anyone to cry for, or to cry for me. I just have to get through this day, and then I can leave town.

Pushing my way through the crowd, my quilt still tightly strapped to my back, I make my way to the gate, where a Peacekeeper with light blonde hair stands. "Name, age?"

"Oak, seventeen."

She looks at me witheringly. "Last name, sweetheart."

I pull myself up to my full height and look her dead in the eyes. "Oak Peacewood." Recognition flashes in her eyes, but she doesn't say anything. All she does is mark my name down on a clipboard hanging next to her, and waves me in.

"How old are you?" another Peacekeeper asks as soon as I get inside the slaughtering pen that they've created.

"Seventeen," I say.

"In here." He pushes me through a smaller gate, into a sort of pen with a bunch of other girls my age who don't acknowledge me at all.

I need a way out; how am I going to get out? I hate to say it, but they've been thorough this time. The fence goes all the way around the common, connecting to the Justice Building at the very back of the common. The building's seen better days, with a large hole in its side where someone blew it up, but at least it's still standing. Peacekeepers are stationed at even points throughout the common, just waiting to catch someone if they do make a break for it. Namely, me.

While I puzzle over the problem of escape, the common fills up with hollow faced kids. A lot of them are crying, but I keep my face neutral. No weakness today. When the last kid files in, the gate is shut and locked at the back, and the real fun begins.

Our mayor, a short, squat little man who is a Capitol supporter waddles out on stage. He obviously didn't suffer too much during the war, considering the size of his stomach. I hate him just as much as I hate the Peacekeepers that surround me.

"Hello District 7! Welcome to the reaping of the first ever Hunger Games!" he says, too happy for the occasion. To the people of District 7's credit, nobody claps or says anything to him. We all just stand in silence, glaring at the man. He coughs once, then continues.

"I will read the Treaty of Treason, as outlined by our benevolent Capitol, to remind us all of our sins."

Nope, I'm out. I don't have time for this bullshit, it's time to get out of the district where I don't have to hear the Capitol's propaganda being piped back at me. I turn in circles, trying to figure a way out. A girl glares at me when I accidentally hit her with my quilt.

"This season is a time for repentance and a time for thanks. This is how we remember our past. This is how we safeguard our future," the mayor finishes, then coughs again. "It is my great honor to choose the tributes who will represent District 7 in the first Hunger Games. I will begin by choosing the girls."

Alright, alright, please don't let it be me. I feel the ring on my finger, Katya's ring, and I get ready to run.

The fat idiot reaches into the glass bowl where I dropped all of my name slips in April, rustles around, then pulls out one white slip. Waddling back to the center of the stage, he pulls it open, reads it, and says, "Oak Peacewood!"

Shit.

Automatically I turn and run, pushing my way through the girls and hopping the short fence that divides us from the eighteen year olds. They clear out of my way, leaving me a path to the fence; it's chain link, I can climb it, I've climbed worse things. Just as I get my fingers into one of the links, someone pulls me hard from behind.

A Peacekeeper has my leg in his hands; I kick hard and he lets go; I start climbing as fast as I can, scaling the fence like a spider climbs up a wall. I have my hands at the top, pulling the barbed wire apart, when I hear the gun click behind me.

"I think you should step down and come with us," she says, aiming the gun at my head. It's the Peacekeeper, the same one who took me back to my shanty earlier. The one with the cold blue eyes.

"Yeah? Or what?" Slowly, I pull the wire up, and pray she doesn't notice me doing it.

"Or I will be forced to shoot." She's calm, too calm. The gun in her hand never wavers.

"And then you'll have to pull another name, and it'll be a hassle and a mess," I say. Wire's almost up; just have to keep her talking until I can dive under it. "Why don't you put the gun down and we can talk?"

"Come down from there, Oak," she says. I take a deep breath, then haul myself over the top of the fence, barbed wire scratching my cheek and catching on the quilt on my back. I pull it loose with a ripping noise just as the gun goes off over my head. Missed me. I drop to the ground, landing hard on my ankle- and I run.

I'm fast, pushing through the crowd of skinny and defeated people. If I can get to the woods, I can scale a tree or something; I can hide until they give up looking for me, and then I can get the hell out of the district.

Something hard catches me on the side of the head; I see stars but I keep running, shoving anyone in my path out of the way. God that hurts. I'm running, I'm running- someone catches me around the waist and I scream, thrashing out of their grip, but someone else has me too, grabbing my hands and pulling them behind my back.

I kick, but someone else grabs my leg and pulls it, almost knocking me down; in retaliation, I bite out blindly, meeting flesh and I'm rewarded with a shout of pain and the taste of blood. Good.

"The little bitch bit me!" That's right I did. But no matter how much I struggle, I can't get away; they have me too securely. One Peacekeeper has my hands held behind me, another grabs my hair so I can't move my head. They can't hold me forever, and when they let me go I'll just run again. I'm not going to compete in their Hunger Games, I won't.

The whole of District 7 is silent as my captors march me back through the gate, up the walkway, to the stairs, and up to the stage. The mayor still stands there, his mouth open in an O of surprise. Bet they didn't expect me to book it. I'll do it again, I'll get away.

"This is Oak Peacewood?" he asks, almost nervously.

"If I wasn't, would I have run?" I say sarcastically. To my satisfaction, he swallows and can't think of anything to say to that. And of course he knows who I am; he'd have to be a blind fool not to. Maybe he is, I don't know. I'm about to open my mouth to say something else, when my gaze falls on the white piece of paper that's fluttered to the stage, open.

My name's not on it. It reads _Daria Speedstorm._ Not Oak Peacewood.

"You lying, cheating piece of crap!" I scream, kicking the Peacekeeper who holds my hair right where it hurts. He groans and lets my hair go, just enough for me to try to weasel my way out of their grasp. "You lied! It's been rigged! You rigged it, you bastard!"

"Shut up," the Peacekeeper says in a half groan, pulling my hair back so hard it makes my head jerk backwards.

"You rigged it! That's not my name! My name isn't on the slip, it's been rigged!" I scream, making sure the whole common can hear. If I'm going to go out, I'm going out with a bang, and I want everyone to know that the Capitol is rigging their reapings. Did I expect it? Yes. Am I okay with this? Absolutely not.

One of the Peacekeepers cuffs me on the side of the head so hard it brings me to my knees. Tears come to my eyes, but I don't let them fall. I'm a rebel, I'm _the_ rebel of District 7, the one everyone knows, and if I am going to die, my last acts are going to be standing up to the Capitol. I hear something metallic behind me, and then I feel cold metal encircling my wrists, and tightened painfully.

"It's too tight," I say, lower this time. "Loosen the goddamn things." A white gloved hand punches me in the mouth; I taste blood.

"Shut it!" This time, I listen, but I keep my eyes up; I feel like I'm ablaze in fire, I'm that furious. I'm not going down without a fight, and didn't it take two Peacekeepers to bring me back in? I drew blood. That makes me feel a little better. And by some miracle, my quilt is still attached to my back, and everything is still in my pockets.

"Well, let's get on with the boys, shall we?" the mayor says, laughing a little nervously in an attempt to get the ball rolling again. He reaches into the boys' bowl and pulls out the first slip he touches. Quickly, he opens the paper and calls out, "Aldar Grovepath!"

Oh shit. Seriously?

Aldar doesn't make a break for it; he walks smoothly out of the little pen where he's been standing, up the stairs, and onto the stage, but by himself. I notice that the Peacekeepers by the gate tense while he walks up, but they relax once they figure out he's not a runner.

Aldar glances over to where I'm kneeling, two Peacekeepers still firmly attached to me, then walks to the center of the stage. He swallows once and says, "I'm Aldar Grovepath. Age eighteen."

"Excellent!" the mayor says, clearly ecstatic to have a cooperative tribute. "Do we have a volunteer for Aldar?"

Nobody says anything. I wonder what they're all thinking right now; they just got a free show, didn't they?

"Our District 7 tributes! Aldar Grovepath and Oak Peacewood!" the mayor shouts, to piecemeal applause. Aldar steps back and allows himself to be cuffed as well, then I'm hauled to my feet and half marched, half dragged into the Justice Building.

"Julius, when's that train getting here again?" the man holding my hair says to someone I can't see.

"Let go of my goddamn hair," I snarl, my neck stiff.

"Are you going to bite again?"

"No."

To my surprise, he actually lets my head go, leaving just the other man holding my arms. I can live with him.

"Train gets here tomorrow at 11:30."

"So where do we put them tonight?" my Peacekeeper says irritably.

"There're spare rooms upstairs; put 'em in one of them," the man called Julius says.

"Miss Wildcat here? She'll get out in a minute." Yes I will, thank you for noticing. Speaking of noticing, Aldar keeps looking over at me with an odd expression on his face. I'm not up for dealing with him today, so I look away.

"Cuff her to the bed then and keep an eye on her, idiot," Julius says.

My Peacekeeper snorts, but he says, "Fine. As good a plan as any." With that, the remaining Peacekeeper pulls me away and up a set of stairs covered in threadbare carpet. District 8's still not up and running, so that means no cloth anywhere. No chance of new carpets, I'm afraid.

"Stand still," he says as he opens the door to a small room with a bed, dresser, and a chair in the corner. It's also seen better days, but it's so much better than what I've been living in in the Sap. And there's a window.

As soon as the Peacekeeper opens one of my cuffs, I dive for the window. This time, I'm not quick enough; he grabs me and slaps my face, then shoves me over to the bed. He loops the chain that connects the cuffs over an iron bar that makes up the headboard, then clicks the cuffs back on my wrist, effectively trapping me to the bed.

"Stay," he says, then walks out of the room, leaving the door ajar. This is definitely a new low for me. Everything about my face hurts, from the scratches I got from the barbed wire to the bruises that are probably forming at this very moment. It's not just my face either, actually; my whole body hurts from the manhandling I got.

The train comes at eleven tomorrow, does it? So that's how they're going to get us to the Capitol. Might be prudent to actually get on the train and then ditch from there, in some foreign district where they'll never find me. But what am I going to do about Aldar?

He's not my friend anymore, so I don't even know why I'm worrying about him.

The train comes at eleven tomorrow, which means I just have to pass a whole day chained to this bed. They can hold me here, they can hit me, swear at me, do whatever they want to me. None of that can change the fact that I'm Oak Peacewood, daughter of Sky and Ash, who fought in the Capitol.

The first train I took brought me to the place where I fought for freedom. The last train I took brought me back into oppression. And as for this new train that's going to take me back to where it all ended tomorrow?

I'm going to get free if it kills me.


	7. Boarding a Train

** Cass Oceansong **

_Tack. Tack._

My eyes, swollen from crying myself to sleep, open. What's that noise? For a moment I think I'm home, but the room is unfamiliar, and I'm alone. Everything from yesterday floods back and I barely stop myself from crying again.

I'm in the Justice Building, locked into a room on the second floor; it's a light shade of blue, with only an iron bed in it, which I'm currently sitting up on. The Peacekeepers who put me in here were nice enough to take off my cuffs before they locked the door; I think they knew I wasn't going to try to escape. I don't even see how I could; they'd catch me easily.

 _Tack_. It's coming from the window, a single paned piece of glass that's grimy and hard to see through. Somebody's throwing something at it. Rolling off the bed, I go over and try to peer through and down.

Another rock hits the window, making me jump. I pull up hard on the sash, and the window goes up about a foot. Sticking my head out, I look down, and I almost hit my head on the window with surprise.

"Thought you'd never open up," Tempest says, her hands full of gravel and a nervous grin plastered on her face. "I've been throwing these for ages; I was just hoping I was getting the right room."

"What are you doing here?" I say, as loudly as I dare, leaning further out. Tempest, with her wild red hair, stands below, next to Wave and Sea. Sea keeps looking around, like she's expecting to get caught any second.

"We're- we're saying goodbye, of course," Wave says, in a voice that's higher than her usual. I could burst into tears, I'm that happy to see them.

"What time is it?"

"Half past seven," Sea says.

"They're coming to get me at eight," I say. "I overheard that I'm going to be put on a train."

"Did they feed you at all? Are you hurt?" Sea asks.

"They gave me some bread and sausages last night, and I'm not hurt at all." I take a deep breath. "I'm scared. I don't want to leave."

Wave starts crying. "I'm sorry! You shouldn't have volunteered for me; it's all my fault!"

"It's not your fault; I should have stepped up," Sea says bitterly. "I don't know why I didn't. I'm sorry, I'm sorry Cass." She swallows like she's about to start crying too; I hope she doesn't, that won't help anything.

"It's okay," I say, speaking through a lump in my throat that seems to be the size of an apple. "I'm okay. I'll come home, I promise." I don't know how I'll keep that promise, but I'll try. I don't even know who else got chosen from the other districts; for all I know they're a bunch of six foot eighteen year olds that I'll have no chance against.

"You have to," Wave says. "You have to come home."

"You'll be alright," Tempest says confidently. "I've known you my whole life; if anyone can win the Hunger Games, it's you."

I smile weakly. "Thanks."

"Oh, we brought food. We didn't know how you're getting to the Capitol, so we put together a package for you," Wave says, holding up a handkerchief that's full of something. "Stand back, I'm going to lob it at the window."

I pull my head back in; Wave's a good shot; the handkerchief flies through the opening and lands on the floor with a dull thump. "Thank you," I say, tearing up again once I put my head through the open window again.

"You'll be home soon, I know it," Tempest says again. "We're all counting on you, you know. Mags too."

"Tell Sissy and Mother and Father that I love them, okay?" I say. "Are they okay?" Father's last shout to me rings in my ears still; I have never heard my father sound so desperate.

Sea bites her lip. "Well, none of us are okay. Mother cried most of the day yesterday, and Father did too." A hollow feeling settles in my stomach; my father never cries. I feel so horrible for making them upset like this! Even so, better me than Wave. I have a slim chance at fourteen I'll bet, but my little sister wouldn't even have that.

From a ways down the corridor outside this room, I hear the thumping of boots. "They're coming, they're coming back!" I call down. Terror flits across their faces. What would happen to them if they were caught? If I'm caught at the window?

"Good luck, we'll be waiting for you when you get back!" Tempest says. "You can do this, Cass."

"I love you! I love you!" Sea and Wave both say, tears spilling over and pouring down their cheeks. That's the last I see of them, because I pull the window down, grab the handkerchief, shove it under my skirts, and lie down on the bed again just as the key rattles in the lock. I can barely breathe, I'm that scared. I don't know what's going to happen.

"'Morning sleeping beauty!" the Peacekeeper says; it's a different one than the men who took me in here yesterday. This Peacekeeper is younger, closer to Sea's age I'd say, with a spotty face. "Here's your breakfast."

He hands me a piece of cold toast; I hesitate for a second, then take it from him, eating it in large bites. I have the handkerchief of food still under me, but I don't know when or if they'll feed me again.

"What's going to happen?" I ask once I finish the toast, pressed up against the wall. He smirks, and my stomach drops again.

"You're going to take a nice train tour of the country," he says, picking at his teeth with his fingers. "I think it's just about time to head out, don't you?"

"I don't want to go," I say, my voice sounding braver than I feel. "I want to go home."

"Better make the best of it, girlie, 'cause you're not going anywhere but the train tracks."

I slip my hand under my skirt and tuck the handkerchief into my drawers; it's uncomfortable, but how else am I going to take it with me without them knowing? "Can I put my shoes on, then?" I ask.

"I think it would be best if you did," the Peacekeeper says, backing out the door. "Get ready; we leave in five minutes."

Once the door slams shut, I jump up off the bed and pull my shoes on, ignoring the flapping of the one sole. My hair is still in the fishtail braid my mother put it in yesterday, and I have no intention of taking it out. I need to have her with me on this journey, wherever it's going to take me.

The door flies open again, sooner than the five minutes I swear. The boy Peacekeeper is gone, replaced by one of the blank faced men from yesterday. Dangling from his hand are the cuffs I wore after the reaping.

I back away, my legs bumping into the bed. "I'm not going to run, I promise," I say, eying the metal loops. "I promise, please don't make me wear those again."

He doesn't say anything, just lunges for me and grabs my wrists roughly, pulling them behind my back and locking the cuffs on them. I can't help it; I burst into tears. I'm not a criminal! I'm just a fourteen year old girl; why are they treating me like a thief or a murderer?

"You're not going to get any pity from me," he says in a low voice, then pulls me out of the room, down the corridor, and down the stairs, where Rigg, my district partner, is waiting. His hands are locked behind his back too. We meet each others' eyes, and I don't know what he's feeling. Probably just as scared as I am.

"Let's go!" my Peacekeeper says, shoving me forward and out a back door that I didn't know existed. My nose is running, and I have nothing to wipe it, or to wipe my face of the tears that don't stop pouring out of my eyes. Rigg doesn't cry; he just stares blank faced ahead of him as he walks.

The walk to the train tracks is a miserable one. I catch glimpses of the ocean occasionally, but I'm jerked left and right, and soon I don't even bother to look for it anymore. I'm leaving District 4, and that hurts terribly. My sole flaps and lets gravel into the shoe as we go; after only a few steps my foot is sore and painful to walk on. They wouldn't care if I told them, so I don't.

"8:30, innit?" the boy Peacekeeper says behind me once we reach the tracks. The metal train tracks go as far as I can see in either direction; I don't know where they go. I want to go home, that's where I want to go.

"Any minute now," another Peacekeeper says. For the next few minutes, we all just stand there in silence, except for my hiccups from my crying. Rigg swallows hard, but he says nothing. I don't think I've heard him speak at all since the reaping.

Something rumbles off in the distance, making me jerk my head up. "Here it comes," the boy Peacekeeper says. The rumbling grows louder, and the ground shakes under my feet, and then the train appears, a rusty cargo train that looks lucky to have survived the war. It slows down as soon as I see it, and it rolls to a stop shortly after.

All along the train are cargo compartments, locked from the outside with padlocks. "Who's got the keys?" the Peacekeeper holding onto me says. My eyes are blurry from crying; I wish they weren't, I want to see as much of District 4 as I can. I'm probably never coming back.

"I do," a Peacekeeper jumping down from the engine says, jingling a set of keys. "Two more for the cargo hold?"

"You've got it." Rigg and I are pushed forward until we're standing right outside one of the locked compartments. They aren't going to put us in there, are they?

Apparently they are; the engine Peacekeeper unlocks the padlock and slides the wooden door to the side. Two figures inside cringe at the light; who are they? The pit in my stomach grows deeper, and all I want to do is run, run to the _Luna,_ and sail away from all of this.

"Is this the Capitol?" One's a girl, with a high, clear voice. I think the other is a boy; he has to be, doesn't he? This is obviously a pair from another district.

"You wish," the engineer says. "Got you some new friends, aren't you lucky?"

"I supported you! I supported the Capitol, and this is how you decide to treat me?" she says heatedly. I can see her a little clearer now; she's small, with light blonde hair and a pointed chin. For a girl who's handcuffed, she's remarkably dignified, sitting there with a furious look on her face.

"You look like a district girl to me, and you're all the same: a bunch of traitors," the Peacekeeper holding me says.

"I didn't do anything either!" I say, trying to stop crying. "None of my family did anything to the Capitol!"

"Nobody cares, sweetheart," the engineer says. "We're on a tight schedule, put 'em in and we'll be on with it."

"Get us some food and water at least," the boy who's sitting next to the girl inside the compartment says. "We've been here for ages."

"Get them water then; don't want them dead by the time we reach the Capitol," the engineer says to the boy Peacekeeper, who rolls his eyes and walks back to a rundown brick building maybe twenty feet away. The Peacekeeper holding me boosts me up into the compartment; I give up on trying to stop crying; everything is just too awful. Rigg climbs up after me, and we sit, shaking, looking at the last little bit of District 4 we'll ever see.

"Here's your water," the boy Peacekeeper says, shoving a bucket of water into the compartment after us.

"We're not animals," the boy inside says, looking at the bucket. I don't know where these two are from, or who they are, but they look very similar. Same blonde hair, blue eyes. Haughty expressions.

"We'll see how you look at the end of the trip," the engineer says, then he slams the door shut, leaving us in darkness. The only light comes from the cracks in between the boards that make up the walls. I hear the padlock being relocked, then nothing. The longer I stare into the darkness, the more my eyes adjust, until I can make out Rigg and the other two, lit by the thin slivers of light from the cracks.

Nobody talks until the train starts up, carrying us away from District 4, when Rigg finally speaks. "Where are you from?"

"District 1," the boy says. "Where were we just there?"

"We're from District 4," Rigg says. "How long have you been in here?"

"Just after the reaping we got dragged over here," the girl says. "What day is it?"

"July 5th. Just after 8:30, if you're wondering."

"That's almost a full day!" the girl exclaims. "I didn't know it would be like this." Her voice drops lower at her last words.

Slowly, I start to stop crying; there's only so much one can do before the tears run out. "I want to go home," I whisper.

"Don't we all," Rigg says brusquely to me, then turns his attention to the duo from 1. "Who are you two, anyway?"

"I'm Glow, she's Silver," the boy from District 1 says. "You?"

"I'm Rigg, she's Cass."

"Good to meet you, then," Glow says. "I'd shake your hand, but it's a little tricky if you know what I mean."

"Are we going to the Capitol?" I ask. Silver shrugs.

"I thought we were, but I don't know. I didn't expect anything like this."

"You signed up for it; you didn't have to be here," Glow says.

"I thought we would be treated better than this!" Silver says.

"Did you volunteer too?" I ask. Silver nods, the yellow light making lines across her face. She's pretty, maybe fifteen or sixteen at the most, but small.

"I volunteered because I wanted to represent my district, because I had a good reason to," Silver says, her voice rising. "I supported the Capitol, always have, and I thought that I would be put on a proper train to get to the Capitol properly."

"Like the Capitol ever did anything good for us," Rigg says.

"It's done plenty good," Silver argues back.

"Shut up both of you; I am not going to listen to the arguing all the way to the Capitol," Glow says.

Silence falls over the cargo compartment. After a few minutes, I manage to slip my arms underneath my legs, so that my hands get bound in front of me instead of behind me. Carefully, I creep over to a wall and peer out through the cracks there, holding onto the wood awkwardly with my hands.

"See anything?" Glow asks. I shake my head.

"Trees, lots of trees. Where do you think they're taking us?" I ask.

"Who knows; I don't know the geography," Rigg says. "How long do you think they'll keep us in here?"

"No clue for that either," Glow says. I look through the cracks for a long time, watching what little scenery I can see go by. When I can't bear to look out any longer, I turn around and really size up this boxcar. It's long, probably by fifty feet, and I'd say nearly ten feet wide. If my theory is correct, they'll be putting all twenty-four of us in here together. How cozy.

The floor and walls are all wood, with some random bits of straw scattered over the floor. In one corner there're sacks of some sort; over by Silver and Glow there is the bucket of water, and on the far end away from me there's a covered bucket. My stomach turns at the thought of what it probably is. I'm not a criminal, so why am I being treated like one?

"Do either of you have food? I'm starving," Silver says, breaking the silence.

"I think so, actually," I say; Rigg swivels his head towards me so fast it looks like it might pop off.

"You do?"

"My sisters and my best friend came to say goodbye this morning, and they gave me a package. I don't know what's in it," I say, fighting back more tears at the thought of never seeing them again. I reach under my dress and pull out the handkerchief, placing it on the wood floor.

Quickly untying it, I find two rolls of seaweed bread, a hunk of cheese, and an orange. Where did they get the orange? What did they trade for it? _Thank you_ , I think. I hope I get to go back and thank them in person someday.

Silver makes a funny noise, like a small cry. "I'm so hungry," she whispers, reaching out her hand.

"We should ration it; don't know if we'll get more," Glow says, and Rigg nods in agreement.

"We'll split the rolls now; half of one each," I say. "We'll eat the orange and cheese later."

Rigg takes the rolls from me, breaks them in half, then hands a half each to Glow and Silver. Silver practically inhales the bread, but Glow makes a face while he eats it. "Salty," he says.

"It's the seaweed," I say, tucking my half of the roll back into the handkerchief. I'll save it for later, when I'm really hungry. Rolling the handkerchief back up, I sit back against the wall and stare at the walls around me. Glow, Rigg, and Silver start talking quietly; I don't want to join them. I want to be alone, or as alone as I can be in here.

Despite everything that's happening, I have to admit that I'm a little curious about what I'm going to see. I've never left District 4 before; maybe I'll see other districts while I'm on this train. How long will they keep us on here, anyway? The Games start on July 10th; five days away. I don't even want to consider the idea that we could be in here for five more days.

And the Capitol! What's that going to look like? If I manage to survive this, I can tell Wave and Sea and Sissy and Tempest and Mags all about what I've seen. I promised that I'd come home, and I pride myself on keeping my promises. I can't let them down. Fourteen is old enough to win, isn't it?

To tell the truth, I don't even know _how_ you win the Hunger Games. It's a fight to the death, but what does that really mean? I can't kill anyone. I won't!

I must doze off after a while, because the next thing I know someone's shaking my shoulder. It's Silver.

"We're slowing down I think," she says. Now that she's close to me, I can see the dark shadows under her eyes, and that her hands shake a little while she sits.

"Where do you think we are?" I ask, rubbing my eyes. She shakes her head.

"No idea. I wish I knew," she says.

"Why did you volunteer?" I ask, just to say _something_ , to keep the tension from growing.

Silver looks down at her bound hands; her wrists are being rubbed raw by the cuffs digging into her skin. "I wanted to be first," she says simply, looking up at me with a surprising amount of fire in her eyes. "I wanted to save my friend, and I wanted to be the first tribute from District 1, and I am! I am, and nobody can take that away from me."

The train slows down even further, almost stopping. We're here, wherever here is. "I volunteered too," I say. "For my sister."

"How sweet of you," Silver says, but she doesn't sound like she means it. The train stops and she stands up. "We're here."

I move out from the wall, following Silver to go sit with the boys. I'm getting more scared again; I don't know what to expect. Is this the Capitol?

The padlock gets removed from the outside of the door, and the panel slides back to reveal the engineer, several Peacekeepers, and a boy and a girl. I gasp when I see the girl.

The first thing I notice about her is her face; it's scratched and bruised and looks like she's been in an awful accident. What happened to her? The second thing I notice is the Peacekeeper that has her dark brown hair in his gloved fist, pulling her head back so that she can't move it. Her hands are bound behind her back like the rest of us, but another Peacekeeper is holding them, effectively immobilizing her.

"I'm happy to see the last of you," the Peacekeeper holding her hair says, pushing her towards us.

"I feel the same way," she says. "Let go of my hair you bastard."

The engineer steps in and hits her hard in the face; her knees dip but she stays standing. "Screw you too," she says, spitting at him.

"Get her in the car," the engineer says, wiping his face. The two Peacekeepers holding her pick the girl up and literally throw her into the boxcar; she hits the ground hard, slamming her head and swearing.

I only notice her partner when he climbs into the compartment, looking very passive compared to the girl. They look similar, but I can tell that he doesn't have the fight in him that she does.

"Good riddance to rebel scum," the Peacekeeper that held the girl's hair says before turning away.

"Bastard!" the girl screams, scrambling to her knees and ignoring the trickle of blood that's coming out of her mouth. Truth be told, I'm more scared of her than of the Peacekeepers that put her in here. It took two of them to get her here?

Who is she?

The door slams shut, leaving us in relative darkness; the padlock goes on, and clicks shut. The boy sits by the door, looking with a very odd expression at the girl, who is currently getting to her feet and rushing the door, hands still manacled behind her back. When the train starts up, she almost loses her balance, but manages to stay upright.

"You're a rebel?" Silver says in an accusatory tone.

"What if I am?"

"Are you?"

The girl looks over her shoulder at Silver. "Yes."

"Then it's your fault that we're here!" Silver says. "It's all your fault; if you had just behaved and not gone against the Capitol, we wouldn't be sitting in a train!"

"My fault?" the girl laughs, sounding out of control. "My fault? I didn't make the Hunger Games, and I certainly don't want to be here with you. Blame the Capitol; that's who's doing this."

"The Capitol was right to punish you rebels!" Silver says. "I supported the Capitol in the war, and I still do!"

The girl looks at Silver incredulously. "You support the Capitol while they're sending you to your death? You're an idiot."

"Shut up, both of you!" Rigg says suddenly. "I am not listening to this the whole way to the Capitol.

Both Silver and the girl open their mouths but shut them again. The new girl storms over to a far corner, slips her hands under her like I did so that her hands are bound in front of her, and unties a ragged quilt from her back.

"I'm Aldar," her district partner says, sitting near the door. "That's Oak."

"Welcome aboard," Glow says. "I have a feeling that we're going to know each other quite well by the time we get to wherever we're going."

Aldar looks over to Oak, who's curled up in the corner under her quilt. "I think so too."


	8. Benevolence

** Silver Bellcreek **

The train rattles along underneath me, making us all sway back and forth. I'm keeping an eye on the girl in the corner, Oak. It didn't even cross my mind that I might be sharing this compartment with rebels. I told Shine and Flaire that only rebels got reaped, but in the aftermath of me volunteering, that went completely out of my head.

It's very clear to me that rebels aren't in the majority so far.

There are six of us in here now; I don't think the others are rebels, besides Oak. She has a nasty way about her, just the picture of what I've been imagining rebels to be. The only other girl, Cass, is quiet, but I think she's nice. Rigg, the District 4 boy, is a little bossy, but he's alright too. And Aldar is as easy going as the day is long.

My stomach rumbles; the only thing I've had to eat since I left District 1 is half of a roll Cass gave me, and I had some swallows out of that horrible water bucket. They'll start treating us properly soon; the tributes who supported the Capitol, anyway. Or even if we're in here for the rest of the journey, I'll bet the Peacekeepers in charge will get in trouble for it. We're the first tributes! They shouldn't be shipping us like cattle. It'll all work out in the end, you'll see.

"It's getting dark out there," Cass says, looking back at us from where she's been keeping her face pressed to the space between the boards. She's right; the little light we have in here is fading fast.

"Guess we should all find a place to sleep tonight then," Rigg says, looking around. There's no place but the floor. I should know; this is my second night in here. I wish they'd stop and take these handcuffs off too; there's no point in us having them.

Well, maybe keep them on Oak. I don't trust her at all.

Cass stays by the wall where she is, shifting around to find a comfortable position, like the rest of us. Aldar, who hasn't said much since he got on the train, shoots a look at Oak, then lies down by the door. Rigg goes and grabs some mildewed sacks from the corner and flops them down by Glow and me; meanwhile, Glow lies down on the bare floor and falls asleep almost immediately. I wish I could do that.

I watch Oak, though, in the last light that's left in here. She's somehow brought a quilt along, and she's curled up in it, like she's in a proper bed. It's cold in here, and what I'm wearing is meant for July. I won't ask to share her quilt, though; I won't have the shame of sleeping next to a rebel! I have standards, and I'd rather be cold than lower them.

Once the light has completely gone from the compartment, I find myself thinking about home. I miss Mum, I really do. I miss coming downstairs in the mornings and finding breakfast on the table, I miss how she would really think about everything I told her, like every single thing I said was important, even when it really wasn't. I miss getting hugs from her before bed.

And the rest of my family too! What are they doing? Are they worried about me? Do they even know that I'm on a train bound for the Capitol? After almost three days in this train, I think I'd even be happy to see Glint again, no matter how annoying he is. I think of our sunlit attic, and the bed I share with Shine, and I get a lump in my throat. I'm homesick, and nothing is turning out the way I thought it would.

I'm the first tribute for District 1, though! I'm proud of that; and everything will get sorted once we reach the Capitol. The Games will start, the rebels will be eliminated, and I'll come out the victor. Then I can go home again, knowing I succeeded in what I came here to do. And it's not going to be so bad, is it? A few rebel kids die, and I get fame out of it. Maybe it's a little selfish, but they had to find some way to punish the rebels, didn't they? I'm just supporting the loyalists, and when I win, I'll just be showing all of Panem that loyalists come out on top every time.

My fingers find the necklace my mother gave me before I left; the smooth, sparkling diamond. Nobody else has such a pretty necklace, although I noticed Oak was wearing a necklace when she came aboard. Not as nice as mine, but pretty all the same. Even though she's a rebel, I can't help but wonder what she's done in her life. She's not very nice, that's for sure. But why did she become a rebel in the first place?

I shouldn't even question that. She's probably crazy, and I know she's dangerous. And I don't trust her at all because of that, and because it's her fault that I'm in here in the first place. It's her fault that she and the rest of the others, some I haven't even met yet, have to die. I hope she's happy!

Eventually, everyone's breathing slows into the rhythm of sleep; I know it well from sharing a bed with Shine my whole life. Someone, I think it's Rigg, whistles a little while he sleeps; it's funny at first, but gets annoying after a few minutes. I could poke him, but he's bound to get little sleep tonight as it is. I'll let him be.

I try to pretend that the boxcar is just the attic at home, and the floor is my bed that I share with Shine. If I concentrate hard enough, I can almost believe that I'm home. Almost.

_Slam._

I sit straight up, fully awake; I must have drifted off, because the train is stopped and the doors are wide open, letting in the cold night air. How long was I asleep? A few hours at most, since it's pitch black out there. Why are we stopped?

Aldar voices my very question, "Why is the train stopped?"

"We're picking someone up, obviously," Glow says, his voice thick with sleep.

"Where are we?" Cass whispers; she sounds scared. She's sounded scared since she got on the train, so it's not a new thing for her. I feel sorry for the girl, I really do. She's only a year or two younger than me, but she seems a lot younger than that sometimes.

"Don't know," I say, rearranging my cuffs so they don't bite into my wrists as badly. I really wish they'd take them off me. It's a good question, however; where _are_ we? The train could have stopped anywhere in Panem, but I doubt it's the Capitol. After the past two stops, I'm convinced that they're going to pick up everyone and then go to the Capitol.

"Why are we getting on the middle of the night; what don't you want everyone to see?" a girl says, and light from flashlights comes into view, illuminating the night outside.

"It's just the schedule the train's on. I'd rather not be up at four in the morning either, but here we are," a man says. I don't recognize the voice, so it can't be the engineer Peacekeeper.

"Where are we going, anyway?" the girl continues.

"The Capitol, with a few stops along the way," the man says again. I think he's a Peacekeeper, which would make sense. And the girl is a tribute, of course. What district is this?

"What's the next stop after this?" the girl asks.

"No idea. I have my orders, and they were to get you to the train at half past four in the morning, and that's all I know."

"Hurry it up! We're on a schedule you know!" the voice I know as the engineer shouts from a distance away.

"Right, good luck with you," the Peacekeeper says, shining his flashlight into the boxcar, the light hitting Cass in the eyes and making her cover them with her hands. The new girl climbs in, hampered by her wrist cuffs; in the dim light I can make out long curly hair, and that she's thin. As for age or any other feature about her, I have no idea.

"Hi?" she says, looking around at all of us. We must be a motely bunch to her, all of us curled up on the hard floor in various places of the train compartment. After the girl, a boy, a tall boy, comes into view, climbing up next to her and sitting down by the door with knees bent.

"Hi," I say, speaking up to break the silence.

"How are you all in there?" the Peacekeeper asks, shining the light around to look at every one of us. Rigg winces when the light hits his face.

"Hungry and tired," Glow says. "Got anything to eat?"

The Peacekeeper pats his uniform down, then pulls out a packet of something. "Dried fruit, if it makes a difference."

"Really?" Rigg says, with the tone of a boy who didn't believe that a Peacekeeper could do something nice for us tributes. See, I was right! Peacekeepers are nice, you just get the odd mean one here and there. For the most part, they're there to help keep the peace, hence the name.

"Here, enjoy," the Peacekeeper says, throwing the packet to Rigg.

"Thank you!" I say.

"No problem, good luck," he says, then shuts the door, leaving us all in darkness again. I can hear Rigg rustling with the packaging.

"Spread it around, won't you?" Glow says, now fully awake from the sound of his voice.

"I'm not eating them all, don't worry," Rigg says crossly. "I'm trying to give them out evenly."

The padlock goes on the outside of the door, and a minute after that, the train starts up again, making us all sway with the movement.

"Who are you guys, anyway?" the girl who just got on says. "Where're you from?"

"I'm Silver, from District 1," I say.

"Glow from 1," Glow puts in.

"Rigg from District 4. Here," Rigg says, pressing two fruit pieces into my hands. "There's enough for everyone to have two."

"Thank you. I'm Cass from District 4 as well," Cass says quietly.

"I'm Aldar from 7, and my partner in the corner is Oak," Aldar says. "You?" I pop the fruit piece into my mouth; it's a little sour, but I think it's an apricot. _Thank you_ , I say in my head to that Peacekeeper.

"Flick," the new boy says.

"I'm Beade. Beade Mildrock," the new girl says. "We're from District 9."

"Welcome aboard," Glow says wryly. "It's been a fun trip so far."

"How long have you been in here?" Flick asks.

"Going on three days for me and Glow," I say, settling so that my back is against the wall. "We picked the others up yesterday."

"Wonderful, we've got a ways to go," Beade says, making her way over to sit by me. "I'm fifteen, how old are you?"

"Sixteen," I answer. For a few minutes we all just sit in uncomfortable silence, with only the racket of the train to fill the air. Finally I lean forward and ask, "Are you two loyalists or rebels?" I need to say something to break the tension, and I want to know if I can trust Beade and Flick or not.

"Funny question to ask," Flick says.

"I'm just wondering," I say.

"I'm loyalist," Beade says. "I supported the Capitol, and I still do."

Somehow a weight has been lifted off my chest when she says that; I'm not the only one anymore. "Oh, me too!" I say. "Volunteer or reaped?"

"Reaped."

"I volunteered to be here," I say proudly.

"You volunteered?" Oak says from the corner.

"Yeah. Have a problem with that?" I ask.

"You're an idiot."

"Excuse me?"

"You volunteered to come to the Capitol and kill the rest of us?" Oak says, her voice rising a little.

"I volunteered to take the place of my best friend, if you're really wondering, and because I did that, I'm going to go down in history as District 1's first tribute," I tell her.

"Again, you're an idiot."

"Why? If anyone's an idiot in here, it's you and your lot," I say, then whisper to Beade, "She's a rebel." Beade nods next to me; she understands.

"My lot?"

"Yeah, your lot. If you hadn't rebelled against the Capitol, we wouldn't be sitting in a train car discussing it," I say. It's true! Without the rebels, there would be no rebellion, and my school would still be standing.

"Do you know what the Capitol did in the war?" Oak says, quieter now, but still very audible over the rattling of the train. "Do you know what your precious Capitol did to us all? Or do you not want to know?"

"Shut up, Oak," Glow says.

"Screw you."

"Oak," Aldar says, but she just ignores him.

"No, don't you tell me to shut up!" she says, her voice rising again. "Your precious Capitol reaped me, but my name wasn't on the slip. If you want to believe that the Capitol has been good to you, go ahead. It hasn't been good to me." With that, I hear her slump down in her quilt again.

"Go to sleep; it's too early for this crap," Glow says, lying back down himself.

"We'll talk in the morning, okay?" I whisper to Beade.

"Okay." I hear the fear in her voice, but she lies down anyway. I lie down too, my whole body uncomfortable against the hard floor. I miss home, I miss home so much right now. But I have to prove that I'm brave, that I was right to volunteer. And in a strange way, I want to prove to Oak that the Capitol is good.

I can't believe any different.


	9. Recognition

** Oak Peacewood **

_I see Katya, standing with the gun, at the base of the mountain that leads up into the Capitol. "Mom, Mom, it's Katya! I see Katya!" I say, turning to look for my mother, but she's not there. She was right there; where did she go?_

_Running, I try to make my way to my sister, but every step I take sinks into the ground and I get nowhere. All around me are my fellow rebels, those who helped rise up against the Capitol, and together we're going to take it down. They can move, why can't I?_

_Motion comes from above; I only have time to scream once before the whole world ignites into a wall of flame, ash, and bullets._

_"Katya!"_

I jolt awake and bury my face in my quilt. My nightmare, it was too real; maybe I didn't sink into the ground when we stormed the Capitol, but everything else happened almost exactly like that.

We arrived, we went to fight, and everyone died around me.

Sitting up, I wince when the metal cuffs bite into my skin. These are going to have to go, absolutely. I just need something sharp to pick the locks on them with. The problem is, there's nothing sharp in here. I need to get out of here; need to escape before we reach the Capitol.

I rummage through my pockets and pull out the apple I stowed in there; I'm glad I did. I'm the best prepared of any of us in here, but nobody really knows it yet. Like they'd ask; the rest of them are treating me like I have a disease.

"Hey."

"What do you want?" I say, stuffing the apple back in my pocket before he sees it. As if I'd share my food with him.

"Can't we just talk?" Aldar asks, coming to sit down in front of me. "We're both tributes; we've got nothing to lose."

"You're a tribute; I'm here because they rigged the reaping. I'm not going to be a tribute," I say.

"We don't really have a choice, do we?"

"There's always a choice, Aldar. You made yours, I made mine."

"Let it go, Oak," Aldar says.

"You abandoned me. I asked you for help, and you just left me there," I say, sitting back against the wall.

"I didn't have a choice!" Aldar says, an edge to his voice. "It was keep the peace in 7 or follow you to who knows where. We both know that if I had come with you, I'd be dead."

"I would have died for you. I would have died for everyone who fought," I say. Don't cry Oak, don't cry. Not now.

"And yet you're the only one who lived."

"Not by my own hand. I didn't want saving, but I was saved anyway," I say.

"Because of the rebellion, we lost everything. You lost everything," Aldar says. "It was a bad idea, the whole three years of it."

"We wanted freedom."

"Did you get it?"

I think back to that first train ride, sitting alongside my mother while we rode to the Capitol. I felt free then; freer than I ever had before. I believed my mother's words that we would give freedom to all of Panem by going to take down the Capitol. I believed her.

"I did for a while," I say quietly.

"And now you're stuck on a train going into the Hunger Games. We're all tributes; just have to accept the fact and go with it."

"And that's why the rebellion never succeeded; there were too many people like you who were content to stay the slaves of the Capitol. If everyone had fought, we would all be free. But because you stayed, and everyone else who didn't come stayed, we're here on this train."

"What would your parents say if they saw you?" Aldar says.

"Don't you dare say anything about my parents!"

"Or Katya! They're gone, Oak. They're all gone."

"Katya isn't dead," I say angrily. "Katya was supposed to come back for me, and my mother told me to go home to wait for her."

"And has she?"

"Get away from me; I don't want to talk to you anymore," I say, turning away from Aldar. He opens his mouth to say something else, but thinks better of it and returns to the other side of the train, sitting down by the door again, on the opposite side of Cass.

I need to get out of here, need to get out of here now. Being on a train hurts too much; it reminds me so much of my mother, and of everything I've lost since the battle at the Capitol. I know my parents are dead; I saw them die, but what about Katya?

Where is my sister?

I remember when we all split up, over a year ago. Before we boarded that train to take down the Capitol.

My father left for District 1 when it became apparent that the Capitol wasn't giving up control of it easily, and that the majority of the people there were Capitol loyalists. Just like that idiot Silver, who's still asleep next to the blonde girl we took on board this morning.

He left, with a few other people, and he didn't come back. I saw footage later, mandatory viewing in the common, of all of them being shot in the woods. I don't know how they got the footage, but they did.

Katya left a few months later. She was working in the underground resistance, which meant she was more of a spy than a soldier. My beautiful, brave sister; she went with six other undergrounds on a mission to District 2, and from there she was supposed to infiltrate the Capitol. I don't know if she completed her mission or not; Mom and I came a few months after that and everything went to hell.

"We're slowing down again," Cass says loudly, back to looking out between the cracks in the boards. I don't mind her; she's quiet and seems nice. She's only fourteen, but fourteen is plenty old enough to fight. I was in the rebellion when I was fourteen; she's a tribute at the same age. I had a choice, she didn't.

"Where do you think we are?" Beade asks, sitting up. She still has that shellshocked look from getting on the train early this morning; it'll take time to fade. She can go to the Capitol; I'm not sticking around that long.

"We'll find out soon enough," Rigg says, running his hands through his hair. Nobody else talks while the train rolls to a stop, but Silver gets a drink out of the water bucket, spilling water all over the floor. I stay where I am, wrapping my quilt more tightly around me. There's a rip in it from where I caught it on the barbed wire, but it's better than what the others have. I have a blanket, they have nothing.

I can hear the padlock on the outside of the door get taken off; I could run now, but I'd still have these cuffs on. Better to wait to get these things off me before I escape.

"How about you let go of me and then we can talk?" a girl says outside the door.

"Like hell," a woman says, and the door flies open, revealing two women Peacekeepers, a tall, dark, and lanky boy with a scowl on his face, and a girl with light brown hair, who's currently fighting against the woman who's holding her arms. A girl after my own heart.

It takes both of the Peacekeepers to pick her up and toss her into the train; she lands with a crash, but she doesn't stay down for long. Almost as soon as she lands, she's back on her feet and rushing the door.

One of the Peacekeepers, a shorter woman with light hair, pulls out a white gun and aims it at the girl. "Sit down or you're dead." The girl looks from the Peacekeeper, to the train, to me; her eyes widen in recognition when she sees me, and the insane thing is that I know her too.

"Come here. There's no point running," I say, reaching out a hand to her. _No point right now, that is._ "Don't get shot." The girl looks back at the Peacekeepers once, then marches over where I'm sitting and plops herself down next to me.

"Do we need to throw you too?" the other woman, who has slightly darker hair than the first, says to the silent boy.

"Stuff it," he mumbles, but he gets in without much fight. The Peacekeepers both look in at us all, and a look of disgust crosses their faces.

"Hellions," the light haired one says, and slams the door, leaving us in an eternal twilight light.

"I know you," the girl says, turning to face me. "You were at the Capitol, weren't you?"

"Yeah." Now I know how I recognize her; I remember running when the Capitol started firing down. I lost sight of Katya, couldn't find my mother. The world was thrown into chaos, and I only saw bits and pieces of the scene around me. A man, bleeding out into the ground, a woman with her eyes staring, lying on pieces of rock. Bullets hitting the ground around me, and explosions behind me.

And to my right, I saw a girl, standing as though poised to fly, in a circle of flames. Looking as though the world was at once ending and beginning. I saw her, and she saw me, and then I ran.

"You were in the flames," I say. She nods. "How'd you get out?"

"Luck," she says with a small laugh. "Nothing short of luck. A rock fell down from above and knocked the flames back for a half second. All I needed to get out and run."

"Not everyone died at the Capitol then," I say. They made it seem like everyone was dead, that all the rebels were crushed that day. Katya could be alive then; if this girl made it out, and others made it out, then she could have survived too.

"No, a lot of us made it out. Not everyone from 6, mind you, but there was a big group from 10 that made it back to their district, I think. I hope they did anyway. I'm Tulsee, by the way."

"Oak," I say, and we shake hands the best we can. "Who's your quiet friend over there?"

"That's Jet. Don't be too hard on him; he's only twelve." You could have fooled me; he looks fourteen. Tulsee lowers her voice and leans in to me. "What's the deal with the rest of them?"

I whisper back, "The blondes are Capitol loyalists, and I don't know about the others. We haven't been on the best terms, if you know what I mean."

"I'm not planning to stick around long," Tulsee says.

"Me either. First we need to get these cuffs off, and then we need to get the door open." Tulsee grins a lopsided smile.

"That shouldn't be too hard. We've seen worse." I promised myself I wouldn't trust anyone after what happened, that I would keep to myself and get myself out alive. But Tulsee was there, she was at the Capitol when the world fell apart, and so I know I can trust her.

I watch the others as they start to properly wake up. Silver and Glow start playing some sort of guessing game, while Rigg and Aldar talk quietly together. Don't they realize that in a few short days they're going to be expected to kill each other?

"How'd you get back to your district?" Tulsee asks me quietly, watching the others too. Cass keeps her face pressed to the boards, like she's trying to see something outside. I press my lips together and look up over them all, looking up to the ceiling.

"The Capitol destroyed us," I whisper. "You were there. We tried to scale the mountain and they shot us down like we were animals." As I talk, I get lost in my memories again, until it's almost as if I'm there, back at the base of the Capitol, among the dead and dying.

_"Mom! Mom!" I'm running, screaming for my mother, looking for someone, anyone that I know. I can't find Katya; I know she saw me, but I lost her, I lost Katya. The Capitol aircraft is circling above us, shooting at random; people are screaming and the world is on fire. I don't know where I'm supposed to go._

_I stumble over a body of a boy; a cry chokes out of my burning throat. It's Finch. He was only seven years old, but he came along anyway, with a parent from another district. He came to help us, and now he's dead. I'm shaking all over, but I can't stop now. I need to find Mom._

_A bolt of energy, shot by a hovercraft, hits next to me, blowing me off my feet and sending me flying into a heap, narrowly missing the fire that's burning a few feet away. My head hurts, my hands hurt, everything hurts. I'm covered in soot and dirt and blood. Whose blood is it? I don't know, don't know anything._

_I'd like to curl up right where I am and embrace the flames. To stay and be warm and end it all. The world is falling apart, why shouldn't I?_

_"Katya! Oak!" Another bolt of energy lands ten feet away and I scramble to my feet. I heard my mother, but it's hard to see through the haze of smoke and fire. The world is half dark, half bright as the base of the mountain, the rebel camp, burns around me._

_"Mom!" I scream, tears pouring out of my stinging eyes. "Mom!"_

_"Oak!" I stumble towards her voice, and then I've found her. My mother's face is smudged with soot, and there's a cut across one cheek. But she's beautiful, my mother._

_"Mom, I'm scared," I say, holding onto her for dear life. "I'm scared."_

_My mother pulls back from me and grips my face in her hands. "Where is Katya?"_

_"I don't know! I lost track of her!" I gesture around us; the screaming is reaching a crescendo and it rings in my ears. Every few seconds another explosion goes off, rocking the ground I stand on. "What's the plan?"_

_Mom looks grim, her mouth set in a line. "There is no plan."_

_"Come on, you have to have had a backup plan."_

_"We weren't expecting this; I wasn't expecting the aircraft to come in. I don't know. I don't have a plan, Oak."_

_Through the haze I can see row upon row of Peacekeepers, marching in full armor and carrying guns. "It's over, Oak! You need to get out of here."_

_"I'm not going anywhere! We're fighting for Panem; I'm not leaving now!" I say, grabbing her arm._

_"It's over! We lost," my mother says, tears running down her face. "That's it. We lost. Get out of here; get back to the trains. They're set to go any minute now, so get on and go home. Go back to District 7 and wait for Katya; she'll find you there."_

_"What about you?"_

_Mom smiles a humorless smile. "My place is with my people. I didn't lead them this far to abandon them."_

_"Mom!"_

_The Peacekeepers advance, walking straight over the bodies of the people I once knew; all around us the world burns on, the last bits of freedom and hope we had going up in smoke. "Oak, go!" my mother says urgently, holding my face tighter and kissing my forehead. "I love you! Go!"_

_I run and I don't look back._

"I got onto the train and it left. I left them behind," I say, my voice barely louder than a whisper. "When I arrived back in District 7, I was just in time to see the leaders at home get shot. A few days later, I watched on the screens in the common as they put a bullet through my mother's head in the Capitol. Wanted to make an example out of her I guess."

"Your mother? She was…?" Tulsee asks. She knows my mother; everyone knew my mother.

"Sky Peacewood."

"The leader of the District 7 rebellion," she says, almost awed.

I nod. "My mother."

My mother was the leader of a rebellion, and they killed her for it. I'm going to get out of here, out of this train, and I'm going to spark the rebellion again and again until the fire ignites and the districts rise up against the Capitol.

President Ravinstill said that the Capitol was a phoenix, rising from the ashes of the rebellion. What he doesn't realize is that even though the districts are ashes, ashes can be relit.

All it takes is one spark and the fire burns brighter than before.


	10. Hard Times

** Cass Oceansong **

Even though I'm tired and hungry, I keep my face pressed to the crack in the wall, trying to see something, anything. I can see trees, and lakes sometimes, but mostly a lot of grass and some wildlife, like deer and foxes. Nothing to tell me where we are, or where we're going.

Nobody's come onto the train since Tulsee and Jet, and that was over an hour ago now. It's still light outside, but it won't be for much longer, I don't think. I don't want to be in here in the dark again; I'm scared of the dark without my family nearby.

Everyone else has split up into friendships, or at best, shaky alliances. Silver and Beade spent the whole day together, talking quietly, while Glow's joined in a few times. Flick, that's the boy who came from District 9, sits a little ways apart from that bunch and says something every once in a while. He seems nice. Oak and Tulsee have been sitting together since Tulsee got on the train, and Rigg and Aldar and Jet are just sitting apart. Like me.

I don't have anyone to talk to, which is okay. I don't want to know anyone here. I'm so scared about what's going to happen; my stomach feels like it's full of lead. Earlier, I ate the orange that Tempest, Sea, and Wave gave me; I didn't want to share it with anyone else. It was a special treat for me. I've never had an orange before; it was sweet and tangy and clean all at once, and I'd like another one day.

I want to go home so badly! I want to go out onto the ocean and see the silver scales of the fish, hear the sounds of the waves as they lap against the _Luna_ , taste the salty air. I want my mother. Nothing is right, and I doubt it will be ever again.

"See anything out there?" Rigg says, moving over to where I am.

"Nothing that tells me anything," I say.

"Too bad; I'd like to know where we're going next."

"Me too."

Rigg looks at me with a concerned face. "Are you okay?"

I almost laugh; are any of us okay? "I'm fine," I say. "Fine."

"You can come sit with us over there," he says, gesturing to where Silver, Glow, and Beade are sitting. I shake my head.

"I'll stay here."

"Suit yourself," Rigg says, and crosses the floor back to the others again. He gives me a few side-eyed looks before turning his attention back to his few allies.

I need to stay at the wall; here I can breathe a slight bit of fresh air, see the world outside this train. I need these things because I probably won't be getting a lot of them in a few days. Where is the place we're going to fight? What does it look like, and what will happen when we're there?

So many questions, and I don't really want any of them to get answered.

Silver lets out a peal of laughter that hurts my ears; she's having a good time if nobody else is. She and Beade could be sisters, they look that much alike; long blonde hair, blue eyes, and the same sort of frame, like they got enough to eat during the war. Beade's prettier, though.

Pressing my eye to the crack, everything outside's gone into that dusky twilight that precedes night; it's already dark enough inside this train; once the light's completely gone it becomes a cave, like a sea cave I went into once as a dare. You could hear the water there, at least; here all you can hear is the train rattling underneath and faint whispers.

If I listen carefully enough, I can make out a little of what Oak and Tulsee are saying to each other. They want to escape, before we reach the Capitol. I have no idea how they're going to do that, but I don't think I'll go with them, even if they asked me to come. I want to get off this train, but I want to go home! If I get off in the middle of nowhere, I'll be lost forever.

What I'd really like to do is get back to District 4, take my family and Tempest and Mags, and leave on the _Luna_ , never to return. To escape the aftermath of the war, the Hunger Games, the Peacekeepers- everything. That's what I'd like to do.

"Cass! Do you have any more food?" Silver calls to me. I still have the hunk of cheese, but I don't know how willing I am to share it. Suddenly, almost like she's sitting next to me, I can hear my mother's voice in my head.

_"If you have food and your neighbor has none, give them a piece, no matter how hollow your own stomach feels. Two alive is better than one, and one alive is better than none."_

Mother said that a lot during the war. She kept enough back to feed us all, but she wouldn't let a friend or neighbor go hungry for long. Mother would be ashamed of me for thinking I won't share food with Silver.

"I have some cheese," I say in a small voice. "I can give you some."

"Oh Cass, you're a lifesaver!" Silver says. "She brought food with her, isn't she wonderful?" she continues, turning to Beade. Somehow I doubt that she'd think I'm so wonderful if I didn't have any food. Out of the corner of my eye I see Oak slip something to Tulsee; I don't think I'm the only one who packed for the journey. I wonder how she knew she'd be reaped.

Breaking off a chunk of cheese, I toss it over to Silver; she catches it easily and gives me a smile in return. I don't agree with her Capitol loyalty, but I don't hate her like Oak clearly does. I wouldn't be surprised if they killed each other once we get to the Capitol, and I wouldn't put it past the two of them to kill each other before we even arrive.

I don't bother to look through the crack in the wall again; there's nothing to see anyway. I start to pack the cheese away, under my skirts where the others can't steal it in the night. I know what people are capable of when they get too hungry. When I look at him, Aldar has that hungry look in his eyes; Silver's shared with Glow, Beade, Flick, and Rigg, but Aldar has gotten nothing, and neither has Jet.

Carefully getting to my feet, almost falling over when the train makes a sudden jerk, I walk step by step over to where Aldar is sitting, on the opposite side of the door as me. He looks up, and I can see him, just barely, through the darkness that seems to be pressing down on me.

"Here, you didn't get anything," I say, handing him a chunk of cheese.

"Thank you," he says, and I can see him faintly smile. "Why give me this, though?"

"Nobody should go hungry," I say, then I back away as fast as I can, leaving Aldar sitting there by the door, watching me go. These people aren't my enemies; that's only what the Capitol wants us to think. We're all just people of Panem, united by the same fate.

Jet's harder; I simply hand the cheese to him and escape back to my place by the door. He's not one for many words, and I won't make him speak more than he wants to. I'm happy just knowing that nobody is going to starve tonight, and I think I've made my parents proud. I hope I have, anyway.

As I try to settle myself back down into a comfortable position, the cuffs bite into my wrists, like they have been doing for the past few days. My hands are rubbed raw and sore, but there's nothing I can do about it until they decide to take them off me. And who knows when that will be!

"How soon do you think we'll stop again?" Aldar says, breaking the silence that's fallen over us all.

"How are we supposed to know?" Glow asks irritably. "We know as much as you do."

"Just asking!" Aldar says, his voice both exasperated and amused. I wonder if the others pick up on the same tones as I do.

"Well don't!" Beade says. I can't see the girl, but I can imagine her flipping that hair of hers over her shoulder, like she's done twenty times already today. It's hard to believe that she only got onto the train this morning, her and Flick. Time stretches out when you're longing to be somewhere else.

The few conversations I can hear peter out after a while, and then all I can hear is the incessant droning and clacking of the train wheels underneath me. I lie flat on my back, my hands held in front of me resting on my stomach, and stare up at the ceiling, feeling the darkness press down on me like a weight, until it starts to smother me and I have to look away.

If I listen carefully, the wheels make a rhythm that sounds like _Home, home, home_ ; or maybe I'm just imagining it because I want to be back in District 4 so badly. I've been on this train for over a day, nearly two days now, and I feel like I'll go crazy before I reach the Capitol. And then what? I don't know what to expect minute to minute, let alone at the end of the journey.

Why did the war have to happen? The Capitol was oppressive, I know that, but as long as we kept to our own devices, they didn't bother us too badly. They wanted too much fish, too much of our time and our labor; years ago, I would listen to my father talk about the unfairness of it all, but it never affected us badly enough to revolt against it. I don't know what it was like in other districts, but aren't we worse off than before?

If the war hadn't started, if Oak's people hadn't rebelled, I wouldn't be on a cargo train going to my death. I know I can't win, can't survive whatever is waiting for me at the end of this journey. Tears prick my eyes and then, when I don't stop them, run down my face and into my hair. Nobody can see me in the dark; it's safe to cry.

I promised my family that I would go home, and I don't like to break promises; I'll do my best to leave the Capitol alive. But against people like Flick, who's tall and strong looking, Silver who looks healthy even after three years of famine, or Oak, who's already proven she can fight, what chance do I have?

And who in this train car will be the one to kill me? That question makes me want to throw up and cry harder, so I push all thoughts of the coming days out of my head completely.

I want to sleep, but I don't. I find a crack about half an inch wide near the floor, and if I turn my head to the side I can watch the darkness outside and breathe the cool night air, a definite contrast to the hot and foul air that we've been breathing in this boxcar.

My eyes start to close of their own accord, and for a while I drift in and out of a dream haze in which I think I can see Tempest sitting next to me, before she vanishes into the night. Then, like Tempest disappeared, I descend into the depths of sleep.

_The building explodes into rubble, shards of stone and glass hitting me and the people who stand around me. Someone screams, and then chaos descends upon us all; my neighbors all push to escape the explosions that are destroying our district, one building at a time._

_"What are they doing?" Wave asks, gripping my hand so tightly I fear I'll have a bruise later. "Why are they blowing up the buildings?" She's only nine, and I'm only eleven; I don't know why they're destroying our district!_

_"I don't know, we have to run!" I say, pulling at my sister's hand. With difficulty, we push our way through the hysterical crowds, back to our little house. Behind us the screaming continues, and the explosions too. I'm scared._

_As soon as we burst through the door, Mother wraps us up in her arms, bursting into tears. "You're safe! You're safe!" she sobs over and over. When she releases us, I see that Father is standing at the window, looking at us, and Sea is holding baby Cressida on her lap, trying to keep her from squirming off._

_"We were walking home from school and buildings started blowing up!" Wave says, starting to cry now we're safe._

_"What's going on?" I ask, trying to keep my hands from shaking, but it's no use. I can still hear the explosions outside; the walls shudder and the wooden floor beneath my feet quakes with distant vibrations._

_Father walks quickly over to Wave and I, pulling us to the kitchen table and sitting us down. My mother, still crying, accompanies us and sits down opposite me. "You've heard the rumors, haven't you, girls?" Father asks, looking deadly serious._

_"I know nobody is happy with the Capitol," I say. "And I heard something about a rebellion."_

_Father nods, then looks grimly out the window again before saying, "It's begun. The rebellion."_

_Wave's mouth drops open, but I notice that Sea doesn't look surprised. I feel like the bottom of my stomach just dropped out of me and landed somewhere on the floor._

_"So what does that mean?" I ask, gripping the edge of the table._

_"It means we're in for hard times," Father says, and the look on his face makes me more afraid than ever._

"Hey, wake up! We're stopping!" Beade yells out, startling me awake. The back of my head hurts from lying on the hard floor, and my back hurts all the way along my spine. How long have I been asleep? All really I want right now is to bury my face in something soft and block everything out; the war, this train, the Hunger Games.

"We're in for hard times." He wasn't wrong, not at all. We nearly starved, we saw our neighbors die from illness and starvation, and even in the war. So many people died, and for nothing.

The train slows to a complete stop, and I sit up, trying to look through the crack in the wall to figure out where we are. I can see some lights in the distance, and some lights bobbing closer to us, which tells me that people are approaching.

The lock on the outside of the boxcar rattles and comes away; I catch a glimpse of a white-clothed Peacekeeper. With a creak and a shuffling sound, the door slides to the side, blocking the crack in the wall, and two Peacekeepers holding flashlights come into sight; with them are two skinny looking kids. Are they kids? One, the boy, looks older than me, or maybe that's just a trick of the light.

"Get on!" one of the Peacekeepers barks harshly, and the pair scramble into the train as best they can with their hands tied in front of them. No fight from either of these tributes.

"Can't we get something to eat in here?" Beade calls out.

"You can starve for all I care," the Peacekeeper says, and slams the door shut, leaving us to greet these newcomers.

Two more tributes for the Hunger Games, adding up to twelve total.

The train is half full.


	11. Collateral Damage

** Silver Bellcreek **

"Tell me about District 9," I whisper to Beade, who sits next to me with her back against the rough wood wall. I can see her properly today; I think it's sunny outside, because the train car is so brightly lit. It turns out that the ceiling isn't one piece of wood, but slats nailed closely together, but not closely enough that light can't come through. Thin strips of light cover the floor, and we tributes who sit on it.

Beade gets a far away look in her eye at my question. "Before the war, there was the town, the proper district, you know, and then there was the grain fields that stretched for acres and acres. I didn't work there back then, I went to school, but my family worked at growing and cutting the grain." She looks at me, and smiles like she might cry. "We fed Panem. The rebels burned the fields later."

My eyes flick to where Oak and Tulsee sit together, plotting their rebel schemes. I won't talk to them, neither of them. I'll stay here where I can hate the rebels in peace. But hearing Beade talk about grain makes my stomach contract painfully; I'm so hungry, and so is everyone else. Do they want us to starve to death by the time we reach the Capitol?

The new girl, the one who arrived this morning, hasn't said a word yet. She's small and very, very thin, as though she hasn't eaten for weeks, with dark hair that falls around her pale face, hiding it from sight. She and the boy who came with her, have been sitting in the middle of the train car since they got on, hunched up and staring at the walls.

I'm curious to know who they are, but I'm nervous to ask them. They look fragile. I don't even know what district they're from!

"How about you? What's District 1 like now?" Beade asks, leaning her head on my shoulder. "Luxury district; is it all diamonds and furs?"

I laugh. "Not even close!" I say. "We don't even see most of the luxury materials in normal times, and nothing since everything happened. My father's a goldsmith, so sometimes I see some of the pieces he makes, but that's about it." I poke at my dress, the pretty dress that Mum gave me the morning of the reaping. The plum color is getting filthy from the dirt on the floor.

"It's been so long since I've seen anything pretty," Beade sighs. Her dress is of a dark gold color, but it's clearly thin and worn, and patched several times. I thank my lucky stars that I was born in District 1 and not any of the lower districts.

Suddenly, the new girl bursts into tears, burying her face in her knees and sobbing harder than anyone I've ever seen. Beade and I exchange confused looks. The boy reaches over and awkwardly rubs the girl's back, looking blank faced himself.

"Is she okay?" Cass asks from her place at the door.

"What do you think?" he snaps, turning to glare at her.

"Lay off of Cass; she's just asking what we're all thinking," Rigg says.

"Yeah, who are you anyway?" Glow asks. "Where're you from?"

Everyone in the train car has turned their full attention to the sobbing girl and the boy who looks as thin as one of the stripes of light that cross the floor.

"We're District 3," he says finally.

"So why is she crying?" Glow asks, readjusting his cuffs.

The boy looks at Glow like he's stupid. "Keek doesn't want to die any more than you do."

"So her name is Keek?" Beade says. The boy hesitates, then nods. "Who are you then?"

"Volt Wellhorn."

"Who says she's going to die?" Flick asks.

"It's a fight to the death, isn't it? Keek's fourteen, she's not going to be able to kill anyone, let alone you," Volt says, nodding to Flick. He's not wrong; Flick is one of the tallest and strongest looking tributes so far.

"I'm fourteen too," Cass says quietly.

"Yeah? You'll die as quick as we will when we reach the Capitol."

"Don't say that!" Cass says.

"We don't even know what we're up against when we get to the Capitol," Aldar says.

Volt looks at him, blank faced. "We're up against each other, obviously."

"You could be wrong," Rigg says. "The Capitol could just be proving a point. They might not make us fight."

"Do you really believe that, Rigg?" Oak says. "I've seen what the Capitol can do, and they're not going to be nice to us just because we're their little 'chosen ones.'"

"Just because you hate the Capitol doesn't mean that they're going to kill us!" I say. I have to stand up for what I think, and not let the rebels take over the conversation. If the Capitol wasn't going to be merciful, they would have executed all the rebels, instead of letting some go free.

"Just because the Capitol sees you as their pretty pets doesn't mean that they see the rest of us that way," Tulsee says, speaking up at last.

"District 3 was destroyed," Volt says, a hard edge coming into his voice. "The city was burned and blown up, and not by the rebels."

"The Capitol wouldn't do that! It's the rebels, they made you think that the Capitol did that!" I say, shaking with anger.

Oak stands up, her face contorted with fury and shouts, "My parents died to try and free you! Everything we did, three years worth, was to try and help everyone get their freedom. And now I see you, you Capitol pet, who hasn't known a hard day in your life, and I wonder if it was all worth it. The idea that they died to help you-"

"Oak, calm down," Aldar says, but she rounds on him next.

"Don't you dare tell me what to do, I swear, Aldar Grovepath. You did shit all in the war, and you abandoned us all to stay out of it."

"What else was I supposed to do? I wasn't going to follow you to the Capitol to die!"

"You should have; it would have made you a better person," Oak finishes, slumping back down beside Tulsee.

"The Capitol isn't going to kill us, you know," Tulsee says. "They're going to make us kill each other, and that's a far better punishment to the rebels, don't you think? They get to know that their children die for their crimes."

"So what are we doing here then?" Beade asks. "We're not rebels, so how come we're sitting on the train with you?"

Tulsee shrugs. "Collateral damage."

"And what do you mean by me never having a hard day in my life? You don't know what I went through in the war either!" I say. "I saw people die, I saw my school get destroyed, my district wrecked by fumbling rebels who thought they were doing the right thing. But they weren't! You were wrong!"

"District 1 didn't suffer!" Oak says. "You got to keep your pretty dresses and your fine buildings, and I know because I saw it. I went through by train, and I saw the damage done, and it's nothing compared to the other districts."

"The war was a mistake, let's just admit that and move on," Flick says, holding his hands up. "I've had enough of the pointless arguing."

Oak's eyes flash with anger again, but Tulsee grabs her arm and shakes her head. The two rebels fall silent, and so does everyone else in the train car. The only sound comes from Keek, whose muffled crying has continued through our argument.

I feel like crying too. We're days away from reaching the Capitol, and in the meantime the tension in this boxcar feels heavier than the hot and stuffy air. I want to get off; want to stop seeing the strips of light on the floor that bend odd ways when I look at them; want to stop smelling the stinking air that radiates from that horrid bucket in the corner. I want to look around and see sunshine, not unwashed and desperate tributes.

I want to go home. I'm the first tribute from District 1, which already gives me a place in history. Now, after hearing the others' words, and yes, even Tulsee's, it's made it more real that I'm going to have to kill the others to get home. I'm only sixteen, I can't do that!

I don't know what's going to happen. Beade leans her head on my shoulder again, and we all just sit in silence, listening to Keek's sobs peter out and become muffled sniffs. Just waiting for something to happen.

After a while, we start to slow down again.

"Great. New tributes," Glow says, stretching as best he can with his hands cuffed together.

"Wonder where we are," Rigg says. I look around the car, in a useless attempt to see outside, somehow. I see Jet instead, curled up on the floor and staring straight ahead. Honestly, I had forgotten about him.

"Everything is covered in black," Cass says, peering through a crack in the wall. "Even the grass is dirty."

"District 12, then?" Aldar says, yawning.

"That or 8," Flick says.

"They're still getting up and running again; it wouldn't be smoggy yet," Rigg says.

The train slows until it stops, and I don't really appreciate how loud the train is until it's perfectly still. The rattling seems to be engrained in my head, and I can feel the pressure behind my eyes where the sound has been lodged the past few days.

"I see the Peacekeepers coming!" Cass says, and we all become quiet again, waiting for the new tributes to board.

The lock is removed from the outside, and the door slides open, making Cass back up. She's gotten thinner over the past few days, and her eyes are more prominent than before. And she was skinny when she got on, too!

"So you're all still alive," says a tall Peacekeeper with a face hard as stone. I'm not one to be particularly frightened by Peacekeepers, but this one makes me nervous.

"Barely," Oak says from the other side of the train. "Might keep us alive better if you feed us."

"Not likely," he says, stepping aside, and the tributes are thrust forward. The boy is sickly pale, with shaggy black hair and a dangerous look in his eye. Like he might attack at any moment, even though he's so thin he looks like he might break in two if the Peacekeeper holding him squeezes too hard.

The girl on the other hand, is thin too, but with long pale hair that hides her face. I can hear her crying, and tears stain her light grey dress that looks as though it might have been blue once. My heart does an odd pang at the sight of her.

"On!" the other Peacekeeper standing by, a woman with steel grey hair, says, and the two climb in, albeit reluctantly. Keek looks up for the first time in ages at the girl. Great, we have another crier.

"Feed us, please!" Beade says desperately. "Please!"

In answer, the door shuts with a bang, and the lock goes back on the outside of the door. The new boy punches the door, then winces as he shakes his fist out. The blonde girl just sits there and cries, looking for all the world like a limp dishrag.

"Who're you?" Rigg asks, eying the duo suspiciously. "Where are we?"

"What's it to you?" the boy snaps, kicking the door this time.

"Save the attitude for the Capitol; where the hell are we?" Tulsee says, and the boy turns on her menacingly. Tulsee doesn't look intimidated; she stares the boy down until he breaks eye contact.

"District 12. Happy?"

"Will be when we find out your name. We're not enemies yet, you know," Tulsee says.

"Sanguin," the boy spits out. "That's Aldera."

Aldera doesn't look up at the sound of her name; she just keeps crying. Luckily, Keek's stopped, and is just looking blankly at the wall in front of her. Underneath us, the train starts up again, carrying on to whatever place we're going to next.

Volt makes a sound that confuses me at first, then I register it as laughter. It's an odd, croaking noise, but definitely a laugh. "So we have an Aldar and an Aldera now? How will we tell them apart?"

Without warning, Sanguin strides over to where Volt is sitting and punches him square in the face.

"Shit!" Volt says, falling to the side and clutching his nose; his fingers come away red.

"What the hell was that for?" Glow says, jumping to his feet. Sanguin stares Glow down, an odd expression twisting his face, before he apparently realizes that Glow is over a foot taller than he is.

"Just sit down, both of you!" Rigg says.

"Shut it!" Glow says, not moving.

"Oh, quit it!" Beade says. "I've had enough of this! Just sit down and shut up and don't hit each other anymore!"

I glare at Glow until he reluctantly sits down; Sanguin stands alone in the middle of the floor for a second more, then marches over to sit down in the corner, near Jet. Keek's started to cry again, trying to help Volt stem the blood flowing from his nose.

As I watch this scene play out, I realize just how right Tulsee was. We're all collateral damage in the attempt to punish the rebels. I still think that the Capitol was right to punish the rebels, and to show an example to the rest of Panem, but I'm not fond of being collateral damage myself.

I volunteered to be here, though, and it's better me than Flaire. Even though I'm collateral damage, I have to show everyone, the Capitol and districts combined, that it's those who remained loyal to the Capitol who come out on top.

I don't really have a choice now, do I?


	12. Sixteen

** Oak Peacewood **

Tulsee mutters a little in her sleep and moves her head closer to me, but I don't mind. I think this is the closest I've been to another person since I rode to the Capitol the first time alongside my mother. I've been lonely since I got back to District 7, and even though I'm here on this train, I can't help but be happy for the company. For someone who doesn't hate me.

The train car is quiet, and that's a nice change after the arguing and the violence that went on earlier. Sanguin is sitting several feet to the right of me, with his head in his hands like he might snap at any moment. I'm ready for him if he does; I trust him less than any of the others, because he is obviously capable of killing the rest of us. I'll kill him first if it comes to it.

Tulsee stirs and her head moves deeper into the quilt, hiding her face. I like Tulsee, like her a lot, and not just because she was there at the Capitol with me. She's a better friend than what Aldar turned out to be.

I can see him now, sitting beside the door and leaning against the wall. Every so often his eyes flick to me before looking away. Some part of me deep down misses him and all the things we did together as kids. The other part of me can't forgive him for what he did.

_I stand in the shadow of the trees, bouncing on the balls of my feet and looking around nervously. I told him to come; is he going to take me up on it? He's been acting funny lately, and we haven't seen each other much in the past few months, but that's got to be normal. He's working in the forests, and I'm working full time for the rebellion._

_Just when I think he might not come, Aldar steps out from behind a tree and walks towards me, stopping when he's a few feet away. I grin, pushing my hair out of my face. "Thought you weren't coming," I say._

_"Work finished late," Aldar says, and there's an icy tone to his voice._

_"How's that going?" I ask._

_"Work is work," he says, spreading his arms wide. "So why'd you call me here?"_

_"It's finally happening," I say, and I'm unable to keep the excitement out of my voice._

_"What's happening?"_

_"The final mission!" He knows that I'm in the rebellion and that Mom's the leader for District 7; he's known that for years, ever since the war started in the first place. I've mentioned before that we've been working on a final mission, and I thought he'd remember. Obviously not._

_"So what does that mean?" Aldar asks, crossing his arms and frowning._

_I'm not supposed to tell, but this is Aldar, this is why I called him here. I can't leave without telling him, and I need him to come along. I need my best friend with me._

_"Mom got the word from 9 and 2; we're finally ready to mobilize to the Capitol. We're leaving in two nights," I say. "I want you to come with me."_

_Aldar's face turns from disapproval to confusion to anger within a matter of seconds. "Come with you? Why would I come with you?"_

_I step back at his words. "Because you're my best friend. We're going to need all the help we can get, and you're handy with an axe, and I'm sure you can learn to use a gun if you needed to. I have, and it's not that hard."_

_"I'm not going to the Capitol, Oak."_

_"Why not? I know you've been keeping out of the war, but that's just for appearances, isn't it? You want to keep your mom safe, but once we take the Capitol, the war will be over and you don't have to worry any more. So come with us!"_

_"I told you, I'm not going to the Capitol," Aldar says. "I've never liked the fact that you and your family got involved in this crap, and I really don't like the fact that you're trying to rope me into it now. I told you that I'm staying out of this war, and I mean it."_

_"This crap? We're fighting for your freedom," I say angrily. "Your freedom and everyone else's freedom, don't you get it? I want you to come with me because you're my friend, and I want you with me when this war ends."_

_"I'm not going with you!" Aldar says, and his voice rises. "This whole damn war has been a waste of life and time, and it's not going to end well. Look at your sister, Oak; do you think she's going to come home safe?"_

_"Katya's braver than you are, apparently," I shoot back. "She's actually standing up for what she believes in, and she's making a difference, rather than spending her days cutting down trees in District 7."_

_"Your father's been gone months and he's not back either," Aldar says._

_"District 1's been a hard one to crack. Lots of loyalists there," I say. "This is our last chance before the districts divide again; we have to go now."_

_"I obviously can't change your mind about going on your suicide mission," Aldar says, "But you're not dragging me into it too."_

_"Don't you want freedom?"_

_"We don't need freedom to live!" Aldar says. "The Capitol gives us food and shelter and work to do, and that's how we make Panem survive. Once you disrupt the districts, the whole country will collapse."_

_"Do you really believe that?" I ask. "That's just what the Capitol wants us to believe. We lived without districts before, back before Panem, remember?"_

_"And the whole world got destroyed. That's what happens if we have too much freedom, Oak. I'm not going to help destroy everything we've worked so hard to build. The district's already in ruins; why would I destroy it even more?"_

_"You should want to do something good for the world!" I say._

_"I am! I'm helping Panem by not getting involved with the war! I'm not going, Oak. And neither should you," Aldar says._

_"Together or not at all!" I say, my eyes welling up with tears. "You remember, Aldar. Together or not at all."_

_"That's a dumb thing we made up as kids. Not for going to war," Aldar says, and he's starting to walk away._

_"You walk away from me, we're done!" I shout, the tears finally spilling over. I hate crying; it makes me look weak and I never like to look weak. But I can see ten years of a friendship shattering in front of me, and I don't care anymore. "Together or not at all, Aldar!"_

_Aldar pauses at the edge of the trees and looks back at me. "Not at all, then," he says._

_"Please. I need your help," I say, tears dripping off my face and onto my shirt. "I need you to help me, and to help win this war. We need everyone we can get, and I need your help."_

_Aldar looks long and hard at me. "I can't help you, Oak."_

_I swallow and take a deep breath, focusing all the worry I've had for my family and all the hatred I have for the Capitol into the glare I'm giving Aldar. I thought he was my friend, but he's not. He's shown who he really is, and he's betrayed my trust in him. "Screw you, Aldar."_

_He doesn't turn back again as he walks out of the forest, leaving me to hate him and grieve for him at the same time._

Aldar's eyes look over to me before shifting upwards to the roof. He told me he would never let me down, and he swore that he'd always be there for me. I asked him to help me once and come with me to liberate the districts, and he wouldn't. He was a coward, and I won't have a coward as my friend.

He said he was sorry, but it means nothing. Not when we're on this train going to die because of the Capitol. Somewhere deep inside of me I'm glad that he got reaped, so that he gets to see first hand that the Capitol was wrong and what happens when freedom is taken away completely. But even as I'm glad to see him proven wrong, I don't want him to die.

He was still my best friend, and I haven't gotten used to watching my friends die yet. And I've had practice at it, too. Aldar wanted to be friends again, but I couldn't trust him then, and I can't trust him now. Not after he broke our friendship apart with four words.

I reach into my pocket, which is now devoid of food, unfortunately. Tulsee and I have to get out soon or we're going to be too weak to escape. I pull out the doll first, a tiny little thing I called Posy when I was little. My mother made it out of scraps of fabric and yarn, and I loved it.

Opening my father's watch I see that it's nearly three in the afternoon. I'm surprised the watch still works, but my father took good care of it to the end, when he gave it to me.

_"I'll want it back when I get home, but I'll let you hold onto it for me," Dad says, handing me the gold watch that he always carries in his pocket._

_"Aren't you going to need it?" I ask. I don't know exactly what he's going to do, but I'm sure he's going to need a watch where he's going, more than a sixteen year old still in District 7._

_Dad smiles and presses the watch into my hand. "I think you'll need it more," he says, and I close my fingers around the gently ticking pocket watch._

He knew he wasn't coming back, didn't he? He knew I would need the watch when he was gone, to remember him by. The realization of that makes my chest and stomach hurt, like I just got punched there. Katya did the same thing when she left, too. She gave me the ring shaped like a silver butterfly the night before she left for the mission to the Capitol. I thought that she didn't want to lose it, but now I think she knew she might die. How could I have been that naïve?

Please don't let Katya be dead.

I'm about to start crying, which I really don't want to do in here, when Aldera coughs. Nobody else seems to pay her any mind, but I whip my head up to look at the pale and limp looking girl who sits in the middle of the room in a grey heap. She coughs again, her whole body shuddering with the effort, and even from here I can see the dark drops of blood that spatter on her dress.

Shit.

I shake Tulsee awake and her head pops out of the quilt, looking hot and slightly bewildered. "What?"

"Aldera's sick," I mutter to her, low enough so the others can't hear.

"What's that?"

"Aldera's sick. You know, the pale girl," I say, nodding my head towards the girl from District 12.

"So?"

"So, we're all going to get it. Tulsee," I say, dropping my voice even lower, "She's coughing up blood."

"Damn it," Tulsee says, pushing herself to sitting with difficulty. "Last thing we need is a consumption case on our hands."

"We need to get out of here as soon as we can."

"If you want to suggest a plan, I'm all ears," Tulsee says, fiddling with the metal cuffs that are our biggest problem.

"Have to get these off first," I say, arranging my own restraints so they don't cut so deeply into me. Those bastards who put them on in the first place made them too tight on purpose.

"We'll figure it out," Tulsee says, settling herself against the wall. "We've got what, five districts to hit before we get to the Capitol? We'll figure it out."

I look around at my fellow passengers; the travel is taking its toll on the blondes and they look worn and tired, and not too clean either to tell the truth. Not that any of us are, but that's beside the point. Jet hasn't said a word yet, just lies there staring at nothing. Cass kneels by the wall, looking out for hours on end. I think she's run out of food, just like I have; she's shaking a little bit, and not because of the train's movements.

"Tulsee?"

"Yeah?"

"Why were you in the Capitol?"

"What do you mean?" she asks, her eyebrows furrowing together.

"How'd you get involved with the rebellion?" I ask, my voice dropping lower again so the others can't hear. I know almost nothing about my ally except that she was there that day when the world ended.

Tulsee gives a short, breathy laugh. "Long story."

"I doubt we're going anywhere."

Running her fingers through her now tangled hair, Tulsee gives a small smile that seems to say something, but I don't know what. "They killed my Mum two winters ago. Dad had been dead for a year already, from the spotting sickness that comes in the summers in 6." Tulsee fiddles with her cuffs.

"She just wanted to make sure we wouldn't go hungry," she says in a flood of words. "She went to get food, and they shot her. For no reason at all." Tulsee's eyes flash and go hard, like blue glass. "I found her in the street. They just left her there. The Capitol killed her to show they would give the districts no mercy." She looks down, and I know she's keeping tears back. "That's when I made connections with Rigby Handerby. The name doesn't matter now; she's dead too."

"I know; the name's familiar," I say.

"Leader of 6's rebellion. I got in with her and her crew, and they gave me a gun and showed me how to use it. I never looked back. That's how I ended up in the Capitol; I went with Rigby for the last attack. You know how it ends," Tulsee finishes, smiling wryly.

"Rigby got shot the same time as my mother," I say, remembering. They had a lot of the leaders in the Capitol before District 13 was destroyed, and it was easy to kill them from there.

"Yeah."

"And now we're here," I say, looking at the watch again. It reads twenty after three now.

"After they got my mother, I swore I'd never have anything to do with the Capitol again, and after I got with Rigby I swore that I'd rather die than get captured," Tulsee says. "I'm not staying here; I'm not playing their Hunger Games; I won't be their tribute. They picked me because they knew I was with Rigby, and that's the only reason why I'm here. If I'm going to die, it's going to be on my own terms, Oak. Not theirs."

"We're slowing down!" Cass cries, her voice thin and shaky, just like the rest of her.

"Excellent; maybe they can give us some proper food," Tulsee says. I doubt it; the Peacekeepers in charge of all this seem far too happy to see us starve.

Aldera coughs wetly, and Volt, who's closest to her, moves away quickly. "Who'd you think we're getting this time?" he asks.

"Who're you asking?" Flick says.

"Anyone in general."

"I'm guessing a boy and a girl," Tulsee says. Nobody laughs at her comment; Silver and Beade shoot daggers over at us instead. They can glare at us, but we're going to get out alive and they're probably not. They're not going to be so smug once they reach the Capitol and see that everything they've been told is a lie.

"It's not very nice out there," Cass says, peering through her crack in the wall.

"How so?" Rigg asks.

"It's ugly and brownish," she says, looking back at him. The train goes slower and slower under us, until it glides to a halt and we get a reprieve from its noise. I'm hoping that whoever is getting on has something to pick a lock with. It's a long shot, but I can't help but hope.

Cass scrambles back from the door just as it slides open, revealing one fairly pleasant looking Peacekeeper woman and one dour looking Peacekeeper man, holding onto two orange haired, freckled, and unfriendly looking tributes. Wonderful, just what we need.

"Are you hungry?" the pleasant woman says. Silver nearly bursts into tears, nodding so hard I think her head might come off. "We've got food for you all," the woman continues.

The boy, who's shorter but stocky, lunges out at his captor, the man, and bites him hard on the arm. The Peacekeeper shouts and punches the boy across the face, knocking him to the side. I can see blood start to bloom against the crisp white of the Peacekeeper's uniform sleeve; maybe these tributes _are_ what we need. What I need, anyway.

"Shove it," the boy says, spitting out blood onto the ground. Before the Peacekeepers can react, he yanks away from them and takes off, his hands still manacled together. The girl, who's slightly taller with the same orange curls that the boy has, tenses, and I can see her debating whether to run after him or not.

The male Peacekeeper takes off after the boy, disappearing from sight. The woman smiles a strained smile at the rest of us and pushes the girl into the side of the train, forcing her to climb in. The girl doesn't look happy about it, but who is? I like these two, now that I've seen what they can do. A few more like them and we can overwhelm the Peacekeepers at our next station.

"Here's some food," the woman says, throwing a heavy brown sack into the middle of the train. We swarm upon it like wild animals, Tulsee and me included. They can all pretend to be friends, but there are no friends when it comes to food. I snatch a small loaf of bread, a bag of nuts, and a hunk of cheese before staggering backward, avoiding Glow, the big idiot from 1, who's starting to swing at anyone in his way.

Tulsee's grabbed some stuff too, and we run back to our spot, diving underneath the comfort of the ripped quilt again. By the time the male Peacekeeper's dragged the boy back to the train, the sack is empty and everyone's scurried back to their own spots, holding onto their treasures for dear life. The woman Peacekeeper looks bewildered, but she says nothing as the orange haired boy is shoved into the train and the door is slammed behind him.

"I told you it wouldn't work!" the new girl says; her voice has a sharp pitch to it, making me think of a harsh tongued bird.

"Worth a try, Birches," the boy says, his voice low and dull, standing up and brushing dirt off his knees the best he can with his hands tied in front of him.

"Got food," the girl says, gesturing the boy over to her; she's chosen to go between Jet and Sanguin; the latter of which looks deranged clutching a loaf of bread. He creeps the hell out of me.

Underneath us, the train starts up again, the wheels making their rattling, screeching sound that I've become accustomed to hearing over the past few days. I don't mind it right now; I'm too curious about these newcomers and what they might mean for me and Tulsee.

"Are you related?" Beade calls out. The girl, Birches I think the boy called her, whips her head around to look at the girl from 9.

"What's it to you?" she says.

"You've got the same hair," Beade says, rather lamely.

"Yeah? So?"

"So I'm curious, are you related?"

"We're cousins," Birches snaps. "Curiosity satisfied?"

"Nice bite. Pity you didn't get away," I say to the boy, who's crouched on the ground next to his cousin. Even in the semi darkness of the train, his hair glows like fire. I've never seen hair that orange before; it's fascinating.

"If I was taller I would have gotten away," he says, still dully.

"I ran too, when I got reaped," I say. He raises one eyebrow, and Birches turns her attention to me.

"You ran?" she asks suspiciously. "You?"

"Yeah I ran," I say, a self satisfied smile coming over my face. "Took two Peacekeepers to bring me back in." Birches looks briefly impressed.

"What side were you in the war?" she asks.

"My mother was Sky Peacewood," I say. If she's loyalist, the name will mean little. If she's rebel, the name will mean everything.

"We're rebel too," Birches says, nodding to me. "I'm Birches; this is Tazzel. District 8."

Tazzel nods his head.

"You looking for allies then?" Tulsee asks, leaning forward so she can see them better. "I'm Tulsee, 6 rebel."

Birches looks the two of us over, then lets her face go blank. "We can be friendly, but I'm not making allies with anyone but my cousin. I've had enough of trusting people just so they can stab me in the back. I work with Tazzel only. Sorry." And with that, it's like Tulsee and I aren't even here. Birches turns to Tazzel and the rest of us disappear.

"It's better with just you and me anyway," Tulsee whispers to me. "We're going to get out of here soon. Today or tomorrow."

I look at Tazzel and Birches, who are lost in quiet conversation with each other; I look at the loyalists who are eating their hastily gathered food, dumb as rocks. I look at Cass, who got nothing in the struggle for food. There's no one else here that I can trust besides Tulsee. Certainly not Aldar, who's pretending to be asleep. I look at Aldera, who's still coughing.

Finally, I look at Tulsee. "Tonight or tomorrow," I say. "Together, or not at all."


	13. Darkness into Candlelight

** Cass Oceansong **

My hands shake as I finally undo the braid my mother did before I left. You can hardly tell it's a braid anymore, just a rope of fuzzy hair; I could leave it in longer, but I want to be pretty, even just for a minute. Everyone else in here is as bedraggled as I am, but I don't want to arrive in the Capitol like this. Whenever that will be.

A few feet away from me, Aldera, the District 12 girl, coughs and coughs. Part of me wants to go and take care of her, but the other part of me is scared of getting sick, like she obviously is. As our stay on this train gets longer and longer, I'm getting more scared of everyone else on board. Especially that boy Sanguin. I don't want to get hurt; I don't want them to hurt me. I don't want to hurt them!

I finally untangle my hair from the braid and start combing it out with my fingers; I feel dirty and hungry and thirsty, and I want to go home! I want my family, and I want to jump into the ocean and wash away everything that's happened to me so far.

When my hair is as untangled as I can get it, I stand up, almost falling over, and make my way over to the water bucket that sits several feet to the left of Aldera, who watches me with overlarge pale eyes. To my disappointment, the bucket is nearly empty, with only a few inches of scummy water at the bottom. I scoop up a little in my hands and drink, then splash another handful on my face.

"Quit wasting the water," Beade snaps.

"I'm not wasting it," I say, drinking another handful. It tastes terrible, but what can I do? There's nothing else here. After I've drunk, I dip in the handkerchief that Tempest, Sea, and Wave gave me, that they put the food in. Maybe I can scrub off some of the worst dirt on me.

My eyes fall on the empty sack that held the food earlier, and my legs shake. I was scared to go in and fight for the food, and now I'm going to go hungry until we reach the Capitol. I'm not the only one; Jet's lying still, apparently asleep, but with no food next to him.

If I can't even get food, how can I survive the Hunger Games?

"Cass," Aldar says, making me jump.

"What?" I say, my voice coming out in a whisper.

"Come here." I don't trust him, _shouldn't_ trust him, not where I'm going, but I walk, wobbling, over to where he sits by the door anyway.

"What is it?" I whisper.

"Here, we're even," Aldar says, reaching up and handing me half a loaf of bread.

"For me?"

Aldar cracks a smile. "Yeah, for you. You gave me food, now it's my turn. We're even, and I don't owe you any more, okay?"

For the first time in almost three days, I smile, making my cracked lips hurt. "Thank you."

Aldar keeps smiling, but waves me off; I stumble backwards and get back to my place on the other side of the door, clutching the bread for dear life. I didn't even consider the fact that he might think he owed me for me giving him the cheese.

My legs give out as soon as I reach my usual spot and I collapse next to the door, still holding the bread tight in one hand, my handkerchief in the other. While I pull off pieces of bread, I scrub my face and arms until I feel cleaner than I did earlier. Aldar really is nice for giving me the bread when he didn't have to. While I eat, I look at everyone else, and I notice that Oak is giving Aldar a funny look, and I don't really know what it means.

"Agh!" I whip my head around to see Silver holding her eye and wincing.

"What?" Glow asks.

"Something dropped in my eye!"

Beade jumps next, dodging something that I can't see. "I think it's raining."

"And of course they didn't nail the roof shut, did they?" Rigg says.

"Nope," Beade says.

A drop of water falls on me next, running down the back of my neck. It's cold. "Well this is just what we need, isn't it?" Flick says, brushing water from his own head. The drops fall more steadily, drumming on the roof, floor, and into the bucket, until the floor of the train car is slick and my clothes are damp.

The rattling of the train is now accompanied by the sound of the rain pounding on the roof, resulting in a truly deafening sound. All light has been extinguished, so we all sit in a horrible damp darkness, waiting for it to be over.

Somewhere through the noise I can hear someone, a girl, sobbing, as well as cursing that's probably coming from Oak or Tulsee. The rain and the thundering sound and being soaked just adds to my misery, and I can't hold back the tears anymore.

Oak, it's definitely Oak, shouts some obscenity against the Capitol, and one of the loyalist girls shouts something indecipherable back at her. I'm not as passionate in my hate for the Capitol as Oak seems to be, but I don't understand how Silver and Beade can keep supporting them! We're on a train going to be killed; how can they still like the Capitol? I don't understand. I never fought for or against the Capitol during the war, but I hate what they're doing to us; pitting us against each other already. It's loyalist against rebel, and I'm stuck in the middle.

The train seems to shift subtly under me; I know this feeling well now. We're going to make a stop. I'd shout and let everyone know, but Silver and Oak are still arguing, and I doubt I can make myself heard over them. Especially since I'm still crying. I have the overwhelming urge to get off this train right now and just run. I don't even care where; I just need to get out of here before I go crazy.

Without much warning, the train stops, more abruptly than usual. I slide forward slightly on the damp floor, holding my now soggy bread to my chest. Water runs down my face, making me feel like I'm coming out of the ocean. When I thought earlier I'd like to jump in the ocean, I didn't mean this!

"Are you happy? Are you happy with the cards the Capitol has dealt you now?" Tulsee shouts over the rain.

"It's your fault we're here!" Beade screams, sounding like she's losing all control.

"Quit the arguing and shut up!" Glow says. I hate arguing, have always hated it. Right now, I want to curl up next to my mother and forget everything that's happening.

"Stop it! Stop it! Stop!" Keek screams, and she actually makes everyone go quiet.

"Just shut up, all of you," Volt says.

"Like to see you make me," Tulsee says.

"Please, just stop!" I say. On the outside of the wall I'm sitting against, I can hear the lock being removed. With a bang the door slides open and I scuttle backwards, out of the way.

I can't see well, not with how dark it is outside. Two flashlights come into view, and so do two Peacekeepers and two tributes. In the dim light of the flashlights I see the boy, and I shrink back, terrified. He's taller than the Peacekeepers, and probably taller than anyone I've ever seen before. Tall and broad and strong looking, and I can tell that from just the dim light. I don't want to share this train compartment with him.

"How about you take these things off me," he says in a deep voice.

"No can do," says one of the Peacekeepers, but I can hear a slight hint of fear in his voice. If a Peacekeeper is scared of the boy, what is it going to be like having him here with us?

"Just get in, Buck," the girl says, and I'm relieved to hear that she sounds nicer than the boy, Buck. From what I can see of her she's tall too, but not as tall as Buck, and thin.

"Shut up," Buck says, standing his ground. "I'm not getting in there."

"Get in!" the other Peacekeeper says. Buck turns around and slams his fists into the Peacekeeper, knocking him to the ground.

It's funny, but I don't even realize what I'm doing until I've gotten up and slid my way across the floor, ending up next to Tulsee and Oak, as far away from the door as I can get.

"What are you doing?" Tulsee hisses at me.

"I'm scared," I say, crouching down next to her.

"So?"

"Let her stay," Oak says, her voice low. Tulsee breathes out noisily, but she doesn't say anything more to me. Buck is dangerous, I know he's dangerous, but I feel safer next to these two who can obviously fight if needed.

I can't see what's going on outside now that I'm over here, but I can hear struggling outside, and the girl saying, "Buck, don't! Don't!" Aldera and Keek have started crying again, which doesn't help anything. My terror of the dark and of the boy outside is beyond tears.

"Get him!" someone shouts from outside, and I can hear lots of feet running.

"Get the hell away from me!" Buck yells. I hear a crack, the sound of a stick against a skull, and Buck crashes into the side of the train, making the whole boxcar shake. Silver screams and I start chewing on my nails, trying not to cry out too.

The world outside is lit up by dozens of flashlights; more Peacekeepers probably. While I watch the door, the girl gets pushed in; she scrambles to her feet, slips, and falls hard again onto the damp floor.

Beams of light dance around the inside of the boxcar, illuminating each of us in turn. Keek is sobbing into her hands while Volt has his arms around her; Sanguin looks even more unhinged, rocking back and forth while clutching his knees; Flick's forehead is creased with confusion and worry. The girl jumps up again and moves over to the wall where I was sitting before, next to the door.

"Got him?" a Peacekeeper outside shouts, and others shout back in agreement. Buck yells, and then he's thrown through the air into the train and lands with a crash that shakes the boxcar.

"Shut the door! Go!" another Peacekeeper says, and before Buck can get up, the door is slammed shut and the lock reattached, leaving us all in darkness, and with a very dangerous boy.

"Start the train!" someone else shouts. The train jerks to life underneath us and the rattling begins again, adding to the confusion and commotion that's happening inside and out.

Buck gets up from where he's lying in the middle of the train and, from the sounds of it, starts kicking at the door. I can hear it start to splinter when Glow says, "Who the hell are you?"

"I might be asking you the same thing," Buck says. "Why should I answer you?"

"You just got on the train accompanied by a squad of Peacekeepers, and now you're trying to break down the wall. Yeah, I think we can ask you who you are," Flick says.

"Buck, just quit it. We're here, let's think our way out of this," the girl says.

"You shut it," Buck says. "And I'm not going to make friendly with the rest of you."

"Big surprise there," Oak says, and Tulsee quietly laughs.

"I'm not here to make friends or allies or whatever you want to call it. I'm here to get back to District 11, and if I have to kill every single one of you to do it, I will."

Aldera gives a sob that turns into a hacking cough. The rain's let up a little, but still drips down on me steadily. My dress is soaked through, and my teeth chatter on their own accord; my bread is little more than mush now.

Buck shouts and kicks the door again; this time I can hear the wood break. "He might make things easier for us," Oak mutters to Tulsee; I pretend I didn't hear them. There's no way I'm going back to my usual spot tonight; I'm going to stay right here next to Oak and Tulsee, because neither of them seems to be afraid.

There's the sound of a match being struck, and then the new girl comes into view, illuminated by the tiny light. From her pocket she pulls a candle as thick as two fingers and as long as her hand, and lights the wick with the match; immediately there's a small circle of light that surrounds the girl.

"You brought matches?" Volt says in obvious surprise.

"I stole matches and the candle from the room I was being held in," the girl says serenely. In the dim light I can see Tulsee's admiring look, her eyes on the girl.

I can see the girl from District 11 look around, seemingly searching for someone; the candlelight shines just bright enough so that I can tell what she looks like. Dark skin and dark eyes; her black hair braided into two long braids. Her eyes wander around the boxcar, before falling on me. Getting up, she slides her way over to where I sit, and she crouches down in front of me.

"I'm Willow," she says, sticking her hand out; I take it and we shake. "Who are you?"

"Cass," I say.

"Want to go sit over there?" Willow asks, nodding her head to the corner on my left. "It looks drier than the rest of the train."

"Okay." I get up carefully, leaving Tulsee and Oak behind, and follow Willow to the corner, lit by candlelight.

"How old are you?" Willow asks, sitting down beside me in the only dry spot on the train. The roof is solid above the corner, which really makes it the best place to sit.

"I'm fourteen," I say, pressing some water out of my skirt.

"Fifteen," Willow says, nodding. She looks at me hard, but not unkindly, then smiles. "Looks like everyone else's broken into alliances. Want to make one with me?"

I look at Willow, and for some reason I trust her. She reminds me of Tempest, so maybe that's why. And I desperately need a friend for the days ahead.

"Okay."


	14. Reason Comes In

** Silver Bellcreek **

Aldera coughs in the darkness, but nobody else wakes up to hear it. Or if they are awake, they don't say anything or make any movement. Beside me, Beade breathes steadily, deep in sleep and distant from me. I feel distant from everyone tonight, actually.

I think I might be starting to lose my mind. Shapes and figures slide along in the dark, just out of sight, and when I move my eyes to look at them, they vanish, only to be replaced by another person or a set of swirls, dancing out of reach. One of them always seems to look like Flaire, her red hair flashing and contrasting against the black night.

I wonder what she'd say if she saw me now, lying amongst people I hardly know, wet, hungry, and if I'm going to be honest, scared. I shouted at Oak today, but I'm starting to not believe my own words. The Capitol has to care for us, haven't they? That's what my family has always said. But the way they're treating us now makes me think they don't care at all.

What would Flaire say?

 _"You've looked better, haven't you?"_ That's what she'd say. And she'd smile and hug me anyway, because she's my best friend, and then we'd laugh about it and go find some flowers to pick or some adventure to be had. For a second I can see her, flitting at the corner of my eye, and then she's gone again, red hair into black.

The darkness presses down on me, like a large, smothering blanket. The rain stopped, but I can still smell the damp wood and feel my wet clothes and the slippery floor. Without really meaning to, my eyes go towards the corner where, earlier, Willow had a candle. I need light, I need air!

I can't stand being in this crate a moment longer; I need to breathe some fresh air. Beade has her arm on my leg; I push it off as gently as I can. She stirs, but doesn't wake up, thankfully. I don't want to talk to anyone right now.

The train's gentle swaying threatens to knock me off my feet, but I keep one hand on the wall to steady myself. The roof is high above me, but I can see through the slats; there, far away, are the only lights I can see in this place. Stars.

"Who's up?" someone whispers through the dark.

"Silver," I whisper back, keeping my eyes fixed on the faraway stars.

"Oh." I can hear the disappointment in her voice, and it's then that I place her as Oak. I don't have the energy to hate her tonight.

"Sorry to disappoint you," I say, still quietly.

Something fabric rustles; probably her quilt, and Oak stands up. Her shoes make a hollow thudding noise on the ground. "Why do you hate me?" I whisper.

Oak breathes out for a long time, and doesn't answer. "You're a bit of an idiot, honestly," she finally says.

"Excuse me?"

"You go on worshipping the Capitol blindly, and you don't even realize what they've done, and what they're doing," she says.

"They're sending us to our deaths, that's what they're doing," I say without thinking.

 _Real people are going to die._ That's what my mother said the day of the reaping. It seems like years ago that I woke up in my house with my family, eons ago that I volunteered for Flaire in the town square.

"Well you've worked out that much," Oak says. "Have you worked out that they don't care whether you're loyalist or rebel yet? We're all district, so we're all to blame, to them at least."

"Yeah, I know that," I say. "Tulsee said we're all collateral damage."

"Maybe you're not an idiot after all," Oak says, her voice betraying a smile.

"I'm not. I volunteered to be here to save my best friend. I wouldn't have come otherwise." _Oh, but I wanted to_ , I think.

"Why do you support the Capitol the way you do?"

I pause. Why _do_ I? "My family supported them in the war," I finally say.

"I didn't ask about your family; I asked about you," Oak says.

"Why were you a rebel?" I shoot back.

"I believed the world could be changed for the better. And the better would be if the Capitol wasn't in control."

"And because your mom was a rebel, right? She was, wasn't she?"

"Yeah. She was," Oak says. "But that's not the reason why I joined the rebellion. So why do you support the Capitol?"

"They said they would always take care of us," I say. "And they did; I was happy; nothing bad happened until the war started. And what you rebels did to my district was worse than anything the Capitol ever did."

"That's because you're their lapdogs!" Oak says, her voice rising. "You're their lapdogs, and of course they took care of you! They didn't do that to us in the other districts. They destroyed 13 altogether. And don't you dare tell me that they're looking out for you now; you're on a cargo train that's taking you to die. In the end, you're the same as the rest of us."

"That's not true!" I say. Out of the corner of my eye I see another shape that looks strikingly similar to Glass Coramund, the girl who was my friend but supported the rebellion; who told me the day we submitted our names that I lost the war too but just didn't know it.

"What's not true? That you're on a train or that you're the same as the rest of us?"

"They were right; they have to be right," I say, my fingers gripping the rough wooden walls tighter. "If you hadn't stepped out of line then we wouldn't be here. It's- it's because of you."

"I was right the first time; you're an idiot," Oak says, and she stomps her way back to her spot. I hear her sit down, and she doesn't say anything else to me. Fine, that's just fine. I'm not an idiot, I'm not! Just because I believe that the Capitol is doing good doesn't mean that I'm an idiot. They have to be good; they have to be. They have to be.

Somewhere out there, through the dark and the distance, my family lies asleep. Are they thinking of me? Are they worried about me; do they wish I didn't volunteer? If I hadn't volunteered, Flaire would be here, and more terrified than I am. And besides, I would be stuck at home with the unknowing, and I think that would be more unbearable than being here on the train. I'd rather it be me who's sitting here, having the adventure. And, ultimately, that's what this is: an adventure.

I'm going to get to the Capitol, I'm going to win the Hunger Games, however you do that, and then I'm going to go home, and everything is going to be the same as it was before. I'll bet this is just a one year thing, and life will go back to the way it was before the war started; Shine, Flaire, and I will go to school, and I'll have my name down in history. I can't lose, can I?

In the meantime, I'm just going to have to get through the last few days before we reach the Capitol. Tulsee's probably lying that we're going to have to kill each other. The Capitol wouldn't do that, come to think of it. That's something the rebels would do. Isn't it?

Somehow, Oak, Tulsee, and Birches don't seem the type to pit kids against each other to fight. They're just a handful of rebels, though; there're others who would be happy to do it, I'm sure. But the Capitol can't be sending us to die; it must be a lie.

"You could be wrong, you know," someone whispers hoarsely in the dark.

"Wrong about what?" I whisper back.

"The Capitol. I know that you know deep down that they're the villains here. Not the rebels."

"Why would I think that, Volt?" I ask, recognizing the voice now.

"Think about it, if you can," he says, his tone verging on sarcastic. "Why would the people of Panem rebel if there was a decent government in place? If you ever paid attention in history, the governments that were fair, that used democracy, were the ones that lasted. Why would anyone rebel against a system that let them have a say?"

"We have a say, don't we?"

"Again, think about it. Did you have a choice in who runs the country? Would you have been able to see the Capitol if you weren't taken captive? If you weren't a tribute, would you be able to meet people from other districts?"

I don't say anything.

"And if the Capitol was 'all merciful' like you say it is, would you even be a tribute?"

"Just shut up," I say, sitting back down on the damp ground and feeling the water seep back into my dress; my beautiful dress that Mum gave me. It'll be absolutely destroyed by the time I get to the Capitol and go back home again.

I don't want to think about what Volt just said, whether he's right and I'm wrong, and if the world really is as topsy turvy as he says. Mum and Father always said it was the rebels that were to blame, and I really want to keep believing them right now.

The train starts to slow down and I slide a little to the side with its momentum, pushing against Beade by accident. She mumbles something in her sleep, but doesn't wake up. So we're stopping again; I don't think we have many more stops to make now. Maybe three?

Aldera coughs and gasps for breath; she's really sick. Nobody seems to want to do anything for her; we just all leave her alone. I want to help her, but I don't want to get sick either.

"What's going on?" Buck says, making me jump. He's the only one in here that I'm really scared of, what with his violent entrance and all.

"We're stopping," Glow says, noisily sitting up next to me.

"Don't you go running again," Willow says from the far corner of the train. A match strikes and the candle glows again, lighting up Willow's dark face.

"Shut it, I'll run if I want to," Buck says, and I can just make out his outline sitting in front of the door. Someone's cuffs scrape along the floor, making shivers go up and down my spine.

"Buck," Willow starts, but Buck cuts her off.

"I said shut it!"

In the dim light I can see Aldera, still coughing, edging away from Buck, and Keek and Volt as well. Buck's dangerous, and none of us wants to be on his bad side.

"I say we might as well make a break for it while the door's open," Birches says. "If we all rush the door, we'll have a chance."

"And then what?" Oak says. "Better to get out when they're not expecting us to, while the train is going. Then they can't catch us. If we run past them now, they're bound to look for us and bring us back."

"I'm with Oak," Tulsee says simply. _And I'm not with any of you!_ I wouldn't run for anything in the world. I want to have fresh air and light, but I'm going to wait it out until the end of the road. If I got off now, I'd never get home, and that's the goal in all this. Going home again. I wish I never left.

"If you're going to be cowards, I'll go alone," Buck says, standing up and making the boxcar shake.

"And ruin it for the rest of us? Just sit down you idiot," Oak says.

"I'll kill you if you don't shut it," Buck says; Beade's woken up and she squeezes closer to me.

"I'd like to see you try," Oak says. The tension in the room is so thick I can almost see it, dancing alongside Flaire's imaginary red hair that keeps disappearing around non-existent corners. And then, just as I think Buck's going to actually try something against Oak, the door flies open and the tension breaks. Willow blows out her candle in the same moment.

"Stay where you are; if you make a move, I will shoot," a woman says outside. Obviously they got the word about Buck and are ready to kill him too.

"Just sit down!" Willow says, and for once, Buck listens, but reluctantly.

"Get them in; I don't want trouble like 11 had," the same woman says. Two kids, and I can tell they really are little more than kids, are pushed into the boxcar and sprawl on the damp floor. One of them, the girl, stands back up and faces the door and the Peacekeepers outside.

"I'll be back, you'll see!" she says, and she says it with such confidence that I believe her for a second. She's short and sturdy, from her outline, unlike the skinny boy who's still sitting on the floor. "I'll be back!"

"Sure you will," the woman Peacekeeper says, and slams the door shut, leaving us in total darkness again.

The lock rattles on the outside of the door and, almost as soon as it's clicked shut, the train starts up again. Willow strikes another match and the candle gives off enough flickering light to see the newcomers.

"Who are you?" the girl says, turning to face the rest of us. "I'm Osa Bellock."

"Nobody cares!" Jet says, speaking up for the first time since he got on the train.

"Well I do," Osa says matter-of-factly. "I'm Osa, and this is Cinder. We're from 10."

"Did you bring any food?" Beade asks. She's already eaten her way through the share of food she got from the bag earlier.

"I'm not telling," Osa says.

"Shut up and shove off," Buck growls at her. Cinder takes his words to heart, scrambling to his feet and slipping his way over to the unoccupied wall near my group. Osa stays where she is, staring down at Buck.

"I think your bark is worse than your bite," she says. Buck stays still, his cuffed hands wrapped around one knee, just looking up at the girl. She's properly pretty, with dark skin and black hair that's been pinned up messily; I'm impressed at how unafraid she is of Buck.

That lasts until he rears up and punches the girl across the face, sending her sprawling across the floor; the rest of us jump to our feet as one just as Buck reaches Osa and picks her up off the floor by her throat.

"Get the hell off of her!" Flick says, tripping over the water bucket on his way over and spilling the last few precious inches all across the floor. Buck slams Osa against the wall of the train, narrowly missing Aldar, who's on his feet too and attempting to pull Buck off of the girl.

"Leave her alone!" Cass screams.

"Buck! Stop it!" Willow chimes in, but he doesn't listen, just slams Osa against the wall again. Glow and Flick reach him and start to pull him off of Osa, with Aldar's help. Keek's crying again and so is Aldera; next to me Beade is as tense as a taut wire.

Buck drops Osa and turns his attention to the three boys; she lands in a heap on the floor, coughing and rubbing her throat.

"What the hell is your problem?" Oak says. "Why can't you wait to start accosting us until we reach the Capitol?"

"You shut the hell up, girl," Buck says, rounding on her and pointing his finger at her. "I'm here to win this thing, and you don't get to tell me how to do it."

"I'm looking at coming out alive, and I don't care what you do when we get to the Capitol," Oak continues. "Osa's done nothing to you yet; leave her alone."

"Just calm down," Glow says. Cass, who's been on her feet this whole time, darts across the room, slipping behind the four boys and skids to a stop next to Osa, who's still coughing. She says something quiet to her, then helps her off the floor.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Buck says, grabbing Cass by the hair. She cries out and tries to pull away from him, but he just grips her tighter.

"Buck! Let her go," Willow says.

"Since when have I listened to you?" Buck says, clearly to Willow but he keeps his eyes on Cass. Aldar and Glow together pry Buck's hands off of Cass's hair; she grabs Osa and the two of them run back to where Willow sits, still holding the candle in both her hands.

"You don't want to be on Buck's bad side, girl," Buck calls after Cass. I expect him to attack Glow and Aldar next, but after a few tension filled moments he backs down and sits back in front of the door. Beade relaxes slightly next to me; I find her hand and grip it tightly.

Suddenly, it's as though things become clear in my head, like I'm seeing a pattern I didn't truly see before. And I don't know if I'm actually an idiot for not fully realizing it before, even though I've heard everyone say it over and over, or maybe I don't want to believe it, or didn't, anyway.

It's not the rebels who are doing this. It's the Capitol. The Capitol is pitting us against each other; they want us to fight. They want us to kill each other. Collateral damage, that's what we all are, just collateral damage in the attempt to break the districts. It's not the rebels' fault, is it? It's the Capitol.

And I chose to follow them to my death.

While my world view snaps and lands in pieces around me, the boxcar is full of mutterings that can barely be heard above the rattling of the train. We're just pawns in the war against the districts; the Capitol never was going to help us, was it? Everything's been a lie, and maybe I understood some things, and reason's been coming on for a while, but my fellow tributes told me the truth and I didn't listen. Didn't want to listen.

Everything's been a lie, one that I believed whole heartedly.

"Your hair!" Oak says, suddenly and loudly. "Osa, your hair!"

"What about it?" Osa says, one hand to her hair. I can see her half in shadow, her cheeks wet with silent tears.

"You have hair pins in your hair," Oak says, and she sounds more excited than I've ever heard her be.

"So?"

"I know how we're going to get out of here," Oak says, and a smile spreads across her face. "Give me a pin."


	15. Freedom

** Oak Peacewood **

"What?" Osa says, keeping her hand on her hair.

"Give me a pin!" I jump up and slide my way over to her, holding out my hand. "Now! Please!"

"Okay, okay, fine," Osa says, wiping her face with one hand and pulling a long pin out of her braided hairstyle with the other. As soon as the metal pin's in my hand, I spin around and grab Tulsee's wrists.

"I get it," she says, grinning. I knew she would understand; one rebel to another. I find the small hole where the handcuff key is supposed to go- or the pointy end of a hair pin.

"Almost got it," I say, jiggling the pin around in the hole and then, like magic, the restraints pop off of Tulsee's wrists and clatter onto the floor. Tulsee grins even wider, rubbing her wrists. Honestly, I could kiss Osa for wearing pins in her hair.

"What's going on over there?" Rigg calls. I turn and hold the pin up; the metal shines in the candlelight.

"We've got a way out," I say. "Tulsee, do mine." Tulsee takes the pin and does the same maneuver on my cuffs; they drop to the ground in seconds and I'm free, _I'm free_. Of the cuffs, anyway. "Osa, give Tulsee another pin."

Once Osa and I are both armed with hairpins, I free Osa, Willow, and Cass. The three of them do the same rubbing of wrists that Tulsee did. "Brilliant, Osa," I say. She looks up at me almost blank faced, but then I see a hint of a smile around her mouth.

"What now?" Birches says, standing up next to Tazzel.

"We're going to get out, that's what we're going to do," I say, walking across the boxcar to unlock Aldar's cuffs. I might hate him, but I'm not going to let him stay tied up.

"Oak," he starts, but I cut him off.

"No, I'm unlocking you, and that's how far as I'm going to go."

"You going to get mine or what?" Buck says behind me, threateningly as always.

"Like hell I'm going to take your cuffs off," I say. "You're volatile enough locked up."

"Get these damn things off me!"

"Really? There's not way in hell I'll take those off now," I say, walking away from the boy from 11. Everyone else can be scared of him; I'm not going to be. Bullies don't scare me.

"I'm assuming you have a plan," Tulsee says, unlocking Beade.

"We need to get off the train," I say, taking the cuffs off the new boy, Cinder. He's barely more than skin and bones; it's a wonder the cuffs stayed on him.

"Yeah, but how?"

I let Cinder's cuffs drop to the ground and scan the whole room. Willow's face looks puzzled, lit up by the candle she's still holding. Sanguin's still restrained, which is probably for the best, since he's rocking back and forth like a maniac at the moment. Beade's looking confused, and, next to her, Silver looks like someone's kicked her. And she's looking up the ceiling.

The ceiling.

"We're going up!" I say, sprinting back over to where my damp quilt is lying in a heap. I scoop it up, check I have everything in my pockets, and then check the time on my father's watch. Five after five in the morning.

Tulsee joins me, brushing her hair behind her ears. "So, we're going out through the ceiling?"

"Right."

"Let's do this, then."

I look at the boys by Silver and Beade, sizing them up. "Glow, give me a boost," I say.

"Give me a reason why I should do that."

"Do it or I swear to god I'll kill you here and now," I say.

"Don't listen to her, Glow! She's just a rebel and she's going to get the rest of us in trouble!" Beade says. I expect Silver to speak up too, but she doesn't. She looks more fragile than she usually does, but there's no time to wonder why. Frankly, I don't care.

"Fine, Tulsee, boost me up," I say. The ceiling must be ten feet high, and I can't jump ten feet. Tulsee doesn't say anything, just helps me climb onto her shoulders. Birches- I assume it's Birches, because I can't see- comes over and steadies me, and then I grab onto one of the slats and pull myself up.

The slats are stronger than I thought they would be; it takes a lot of effort to break the one I'm holding onto. But it does break, the jagged wood pieces falling to the ground alongside myself. Keek shrieks and starts crying again. She's driving me insane.

"There should be enough room for us to get through the hole," I say. "Willow, bring that candle over here."

Willow obediently gets up and joins Tulsee, Birches, and me in the center of the room; in the candlelight I can clearly see the hole I made. We can all fit through and get out.

"What do we do when we get through the hole, then?" Birches asks, looking up.

"We jump off the train, obviously," I say. It shouldn't be too hard to get off; just jump and hope for a soft landing. Whatever I land in, whether it's soft grass or a thorn bush, I don't care. I'm going to be free.

"Who's going?" Tulsee asks.

"Who wants to get out of here?" I ask, turning and addressing the room. I meet a stony silence.

"I'm not going!" Beade says. "I'm staying right here like I'm supposed to!"

"I'm staying here with Keek," Volt says, his arm around the crying girl. "There's no point in getting out if we don't get to go home."

"Screw going home!" Tulsee says.

"Tazzel, we're getting out of here," Birches says, pulling her cousin closer with an iron grip on his arm. He doesn't say anything; I get the feeling that Birches does all the talking for him. I can't forget him biting that Peacekeeper, though, and for that I respect him.

"You were right," Silver says, startling me. "You were right about the Capitol."

"Just figured that out, did you?" I ask.

"Kind of. I'm sorry," Silver says.

"Alright." Her apology makes me uncomfortable; I just want to go. "So you coming or what?"

"I have to see this through. For my family," she says, and she stays sitting. "I'm staying."

"Fine, do whatever," I say, bouncing on the balls of my feet. "Birches, Tazzel, you go up first. Tulsee and I will help you up."

Together, Tulsee and I get Birches high enough in the air that she can grab the edge of a slat and pull herself through the dark hole in the ceiling.

"Good luck," I say to Tazzel.

"Thanks," Tazzel says, giving me a small smile. His orange hair seems to glow in the candlelight. Willow and Cass haven't said if they're going yet, and neither has Osa. Tulsee and I hoist Tazzel up and he pulls himself through the hole after his cousin.

"Oak, don't go."

"Give me one good reason, Aldar," I say, turning and coming face to face with him. He runs his hands through his hair.

"I messed up, I know I messed up by not going with you last year, and I'm sorry," he says. "But I think running now is the worst thing you can do."

"Oh, do tell me why."

"Katya's not going back to District 7, and you know that. Think about it, Oak. They got your mother, they probably got Katya too."

"Where are you going with his?" I ask, my hands starting to shake at the mention of my sister.

"She's in the Capitol, you know she's in the Capitol. And if you get off now you'll never find her. You've heard the rumors, haven't you?"

I have. I have heard the rumors. How can I not have heard them? I know that rumors are like smoke; they seep under doors and curl around you until they choke you to death.

_Katya Peacewood. Avox. Did you hear? She's been made an Avox because she fought at the Capitol. Did you hear?_

I did hear.

"I could get off here and find a way into the Capitol to find her," I say, but my words sound unconvincing even to me.

"Did that work last time?" Aldar asks. "You tried to get into the Capitol before. Did that work?"

"What do you expect me to do?" I say, talking louder and louder with every word, but I can't stop myself. "Katya's dead, she's got to be dead. Or she's worse than dead."

"Would Katya give up looking for you?"

"She'd get off this train if she was on it!"

"Katya would stay on if there was any hope of finding you in the Capitol!" Aldar says. I bury my face in my hands, trying to block out the whole world.

"Why do you want me to stay on this train? There's a bigger reason than just Katya," I mutter.

"I- I don't want to lose you. Again. This time, I swear I'll stay by your side, and I'll get you home, with Katya."

"I can't trust you. You ditched me once; I can't trust that you won't again."

"Oak, what are you doing? Let's get out of here!" Tulsee says.

"I have to go, Aldar. Are you coming with or staying here?"

"I'm staying here, like you should," Aldar says.

The hole in the ceiling isn't as black as it was before; the sun is starting to rise. "I don't care what you do, Aldar. I'm going." With that, I boost Tulsee up onto my shoulders and she scrambles through the hole in the ceiling.

Aldar grabs my arm. "Together or not at all, Oak."

"Don't you bring up that stupid thing now; you broke it last year," I say, shaking his hand off.

"You were right, about everything. I should have gone with you. I should have joined the rebellion. I'm sorry, I'm sorry Oak."

"Why should this matter to me now?" I say.

"I need you here. Stay on the train, get into the Capitol, and find Katya. You're smart, you'll find a way out from there. Take out some capitolites while you're there. What are you going to do out there that you can't do in the Capitol?"

"Be free, Aldar. This is all it's ever been about. I wanted freedom, and it got taken away, over and over again. You don't know what I went through! You didn't have to live in the Sap, you didn't have to see your family shot in front of you! You didn't fight at the Capitol! You did shit all at home and waited for something to happen. Look where you are now, you're a tribute. I'm not going to be a tribute. Freedom's out there, and I'm going to take it."

"The Oak I knew wouldn't have left her sister," Aldar says.

"The Oak you knew is dead! And so is Katya, probably!" I say. Tears start to overflow and run down my cheeks; I swore I wouldn't cry. "Now help me up if you want to do something useful."

Aldar doesn't say anything, just looks at me for a long moment. "Fine," he says, leaning down and cupping his hands together to make a step.

"Keep the quilt. I don't need it anymore," I say, and he launches me up high enough so that I catch the edge of the slat nearest to the hole. Tulsee grabs my arm and helps me through the hole.

Up on top of the train, the sky is lit up in pinks and purples. All around me are trees and the distant sign of the coastline; the wind blows my hair in clouds around my head, whipping against my mouth.

"Tazzel and Birches already go?" I say, looking around for the orange haired duo.

"Guess so," Tulsee says, drumming her fingers on the slats she's sitting on. "Ready to go?"

The wind blowing through my hair reminds me of the other train ride I took, the first time I went to the Capitol. Sitting beside my mother the whole journey, convinced we were going to bring freedom to the districts. This is a different journey, one that will ultimately lead into captivity. I'd be insane not to get off now.

I swore that I would get free if it killed me trying, so why haven't I jumped off yet?

 _"Go back to District 7 and wait for Katya. She'll find you there."_ Mom, Katya never came back for me. And she would have if she was able to. Katya, my beautiful sister with the laugh that made me laugh, who made up stories about far away places and imaginary creatures. Who left me to fight for something bigger than herself.

I can't be that selfish, leaving to save myself. I need to find Katya, if there's the slimmest chance that she's still alive. I can't get off this train now; as much as I hate to admit it, Aldar's right. I have to stay.

"Oak, what are you doing?" Tulsee asks. "Let's go already!"

"I can't go. I need to find my sister," I say, reaching behind my neck and fumbling with my necklace's clasp.

"What?"

"My sister, she might be an Avox in the Capitol. I need to find her and get out from there. I'll be fine, you know I'll be fine. Take this, though. It was my mother's; if rebels find you they'll know whose necklace it is. Tell them Oak Peacewood sent you. We'll meet up later," I say, not really believing my own words. But I know that my freedom won't mean much if I've sacrificed Katya to get it.

"You're insane!" Tulsee says, but she takes the necklace anyway.

"The others are going to need someone who can lie, who can cover your tracks. Get out now and run and hide, and get somewhere where you can carry on the rebellion, do you hear? Get off now!"

Tulsee clasps the necklace around her neck, then she does something unexpected. She hugs me. "It's been good knowing you," she says, then pulls back and shakes my hand. "See you on the other side. If there's anyone who can escape the Capitol twice, it's you."

"Good luck," I say, trying to smile. Birches and Tazzel got away, and Tulsee's going to get away. And I'm going to stay here.

Giving me one last smile, Tulsee edges to the side of the train, breathes deeply once- then jumps. For a moment she's suspended in mid air like a bird, then she disappears. I scramble to the edge; she's landed in grass, which is the best you can hope for.

She looks like she did when I first saw her in a circle of flames. Like the world is at once ending and beginning. I meet her eyes for a split second, and then the train curves around a bend and she's gone.

I don't go down, not yet. I stay on the roof and watch the sun come up, the sky growing more and more blue the higher the sun rises. Somewhere out there the Capitol stands on a mountain, impervious to attacks, impossible to get into.

I'm going to get in, and I'm going to get Katya out.

And then I'm going to burn the city down.


	16. Cacophony

** Cass Oceansong **

Willow and I sit in the circle of sunlight that spills through from the hole in the roof and onto the ground. No candlelight needed now, Willow holds onto the white candle with both hands, as if she's afraid someone might take it. She might not be wrong in that; there are more than a few rough people in this boxcar now.

It has to be more than an hour since Tulsee, Birches, and Tazzel escaped, and Oak hasn't come down from the roof yet. I would have thought that she would have jumped off too, but I can still see her dark hair blowing in the wind. She's been so committed to escaping; I wonder why she didn't.

I could still leave; I could convince Willow and Osa to get off here and find our way back home. I'm scared to stay on the train, and I'm scared to get off the train. And being on the train is the choice that's the most certain; I know where I'll get off at the end of the journey; I don't know what would happen if I got off here.

I'll stay. I have Willow and Osa, and as long as we stay together, I'll be okay. At least my hands are free now!

"What are you thinking about?" I whisper to Willow, who's staring up through the hole in the ceiling.

"Home," she whispers back.

 _Home._ That one word brings out a flood of emotion in me; tears come to my eyes when I remember the ocean and the _Luna_ , and my family. How my father shouted my name when I was reaped, my mother's steadfast reassurances that everything would be okay; how Sea, Wave, and Tempest came to say goodbye; Cressida and her laugh that seemed to bubble up like waves on the beach. Little Mags with her red curls. That's home to me, and I miss them all so much.

I promised I'd come home, but when I look at Buck, my stomach sinks. How can I survive against him?

"What's home like for you?" I ask Willow, fighting back the tears.

"Destroyed, mostly," Willow says, shrugging. "When I left, we were supposed to start planting the orchards again soon."

"What happened to them?"

"Fire swept through. Got some of the houses too, but mostly the trees. Aliyah and Bernice cried when the trees burned; they loved the orchards so much, and there's not a lot of pretty things in 11."

"Who are they?" I whisper.

"My sisters," Willow says, and she smiles. "Eleven and nine; too young to be eligible for the reapings. Thankfully."

"I have three sisters," I say. "I miss them."

"I'd get off this train now if I could," Willow says, looking up to the blue sky above.

"Why don't you?"

"I promised I'd see this through. And where would I go? I have no idea where we are, and they'd catch me straight off. No, I'll see this through like I told Papa I would."

Aldera gives a hacking cough and promptly bursts into tears again. "Oh, don't you start!" Rigg says irritably.

"She's sick!" I say whipping my head to look at him. I'm not as scared as I was, now that I have Willow and Osa on my side. "How about you leave her alone?"

"How about you shut it?" Sanguin snarls from the corner. Oak didn't unlock him, and he's scaring me the most of anyone, even Buck. Sanguin, I think, is just unhinged, and that makes him the most dangerous person in this boxcar.

"Don't you make me kick your ass!" Osa says, pointing at him. Osa's a year younger than me at thirteen, and about twice as bold as me and Willow combined. The three of us have formed an alliance, and I feel safer with the two of them with me. I like not being alone anymore.

"When do you think we'll slow down again?" Silver says, speaking up for the first time in over an hour. It must be a record; she's usually very chatty.

"Probably soon. Two more districts, isn't it?" Beade says, running her fingers through her hair and trying to comb it out.

"Think so." Two more districts and four more tributes. And then- what?

"What do you think they're going to say when they find out we're down three people?" Osa asks.

"They never count, we'll be fine," Flick says.

"Don't let them see we don't have cuffs on or we're effed," Rigg adds.

"Speak for yourself," Buck says, slamming his cuffed hands down onto the floor.

"If we take those off you you'll kill us all and break out through the door," Rigg says.

"Damn rights I would."

"You keep the cuffs then."

"But back to my original point," Osa says, "When we get to the Capitol, they're going to figure out that they're missing three tributes. Are we going to have a plan for that or not?"

"They're not going to find them; we're miles away from the Capitol, and I doubt we're reaching there any day soon," Volt says.

"Think they'll still run the Games if three are missing?" Willow asks.

"They will," Aldar says, quietly. "They're not going to let us go that easily."

"When'd you come to that conclusion, genius?" Glow asks, folding his arms across his chest. "Thought you were on our side."

"I've never been on any side. I'm neutral, like Cass is," Aldar says, still quiet. I wish he wouldn't bring me into this.

"I say the Capitol is going to give us some glory while we're there, and punish the rebels at the same time. They're not going to punish the people who supported them," Glow says.

Silver says something so quiet I can't hear what it is. "Can't hear you, speak up!" Glow snaps at her.

"The Capitol is going to kill us," Silver says, louder and more forceful. "They're not going to let us off; they're going to kill us."

"When'd you start thinking that?" Beade asks, her face crinkling in confusion. "Thought you were a loyalist."

"I-" Silver starts, but Glow cuts her off.

"She's tired and doesn't know what's going on. You listen up, the rest of you; the loyalists are going to be coming out of this, and you won't be."

"You're a goddamn moron," Buck spits out. In a flash, he's on his feet and rushing at Glow, who meets Buck with fists. Keek screams and covers her head with her hands, while Volt glares at the rest of us like we're the problem.

"I can't leave you alone for an hour, can I?" Oak says, suddenly appearing in the ceiling hole. Her face is blotchy and her eyes are red, like she's been crying, but nobody mentions that. Swiftly, she swings down through the hole, sways back and forth a few times while holding onto a slat, then drops heavily to the ground.

"You stayed?" Aldar says in apparent disbelief. Oak doesn't answer him; instead she walks with terrifying determination over to Buck, who's still grappling with Glow, and punches him right in the face.

Buck lets go of Glow and staggers backwards, clutching his face. "You bitch!"

"That's right, I'm a bitch. I don't care."

Keek screams again; I wish she wouldn't, it just makes things worse. Willow finds my hand and squeezes it tight. Buck rushes at Oak again, but she ducks in time, the train's momentum and his own sending Buck sprawling face first on the floor. Willow's hand grips tighter.

"Stay down or I'll hit you again," Oak says; far from being scared, she sounds almost bored.

Buck gets up and swings at her, but Oak ducks, kicking the boy from 11 into the side of the boxcar. "I said, stay down! Sit down or get off the train; I am not dealing with this shit right now," Oak says, standing over him. For all his strength and combativeness, he listens and stays down, glaring up at Oak. She looks at him for a second more, before turning and striding back to where she's been sitting for the past few days, scooping up her quilt as she goes.

Willow and Osa watch her go by, but quickly turn their attention away from Oak, back to Buck who's still sitting on the floor rubbing his face. I'm the only one to see Oak bury her face in her quilt, her shoulders shaking.

I'm the only one to see her cry.

It feels like I'm invading her privacy by watching her, so I look away, edging to the wall with the long crack in it. Pressing my eye to it, I can see the world outside this train, a world that maybe I can rejoin someday.

"What do you see out there?" Willow whispers to me.

"Just some bushes," I say. There's nothing out there to tell me where I am, or where I'm going. Suddenly it makes me want to scream and cry and hit the wall until it breaks. I don't get angry often, but it wells up in me until it's like my insides are filled with fire. I want to get off this train right now!

"Where are you going?" Osa says as I scramble to stand up and run to stand underneath the jagged hole in the ceiling, revealing blue skies and white clouds above me. I could leave right now and never have to go to the Capitol to fight, or do whatever they're going to make us do. I have the option of not dying.

What would my parents say if I got off now? I'd probably never see them again, so it's not worth it, it's not worth leaving. But I wouldn't have the chance of dying. Somebody in this boxcar is going to try to kill me, and I'm terrified they'll succeed. I don't want to die.

I want to go home so badly it hurts, and that hurt overcomes the fiery anger in the pit of my stomach. Still looking at that rough piece of blue sky, I sink to the ground, shaking all over. I'm hungry, I'm thirsty, and I'm scared; I'm so scared I'll never go home.

"Cass, you okay?" Willow says, a little louder than a whisper. I shake my head.

"I don't want to be here anymore."

"Don't tell me you're sick too," Flick says irritably. He's usually fairly good-natured, so doesn't that say something about what the stress and the journey is doing to us?

"I'm not," I say, pressing my hands together to stop the shaking. It doesn't help; all I want is to leave this place.

"Cass, come sit down. Please," Willow says.

"If you want to get off, just go! Nobody wants you here anyway," Beade says rather nastily.

"Don't say that! That's awful, Beade," Silver says. The fact that she's standing up for me surprises me.

"What's gotten into you? Are you sick; you're acting really strange?" Beade edges away from Silver like she could be contagious.

"She's not sick; she's getting smarter," Aldar says.

"Are you saying that I'm not smart then?"

"When did I ever say that?"

"You listen to me, Aldar; if you don't shut your damn mouth, I'm going to shut it for you," Beade says, jabbing her finger at Aldar, who's sitting only a few feet away from me.

Before he can reply to Beade's threat, Sanguin starts screaming, like a savage animal caught in a trap. Willow grabs my arm and pulls me back to Osa, all of our eyes riveted to Sanguin, who screams until he runs out of air; once his voice fades out, he slams his head backwards against the wall, over and over again.

For a long time, all I can hear is the sound of flesh meeting wood, the rattling of the train wheels under me, and Sanguin's guttural moaning. Gradually, other sounds work their way in- Keek sobbing, Aldera coughing, low arguing from Beade, Glow and Silver- all twining together to make an unbearable cacophony of misery.

And all I want to do is cover my ears and scream.


	17. The Girl with the Blue Eyes

** Silver Bellcreek **

When the world shatters around you, what do you think about? I think of flowers, fields of them, and gathering them with Flaire. Bringing them home to my mother, who arranged them in vases, or dried them between the pages of books. Once I picked so many peonies that Mum strung them into a garland and hung it over a window. They didn't turn ugly and brown; the peonies died slowly but beautifully, keeping their pinks to the last.

That's what I think as this train takes me closer and closer to the Capitol, and possibly to my own death. I'm not going to die beautifully, if I die at all; I've never felt more miserable in my life. Sanguin finally stopped hitting his head and moaning, after what felt like hours. It might have been; I can't tell time very well in here. And the only person who has a watch is Oak, who keeps to herself and speaks to nobody.

It's funny, but I don't hate her anymore. In a way, I feel like we're on the same side, because I finally decided to figure out that the Capitol doesn't mean me well, or any of us well for a matter of fact. I finally understand why the districts might have rebelled, if the Capitol has been like this to everyone else besides District 1. We are privileged, or were, anyway. I'm here, aren't I?

Aldera's asleep on the floor, but I can hear her breath rattling from where I'm sitting. Will she even live to see the Capitol? Next to me, Beade sits with her eyes closed. I know she's not asleep, but she's not talking to me either. She's still loyalist, and I don't exactly know what I am anymore.

One good thing about today is that the hole in the roof lets in a breeze that the slats didn't before, making the boxcar smell and feel better. Outside of this train, it's summer, and I'm missing it!

Buck slams his fists into the wall, wincing when the wood doesn't give. After Oak punched him, he went to sit over by the covered bucket in the corner. Why on earth he would want to go there, I don't know, but he keeps glaring over at us. Most everyone else is either asleep or pretending to be asleep right now. Cass isn't doing either; she's keeping her face to the crack in the wall like she always does.

"What's out there?" I ask, my voice croaky from not saying anything for a few hours. Beade's eyelids twitch, but she doesn't open them.

"I think we're going to be stopping soon," Cass says quietly; I can hardly hear her over the rattling of the train.

"How come?"

"It's not so bushy out there. I just saw a chain-link fence, so it's going to be a district soon."

"Wonder where that is," I say.

"Either going to be District 5 or District 2; they're the only two districts we haven't been to yet," Volt says, sitting up and running his hands through his hair.

"Maybe we can get off here, if we're quick," Osa says, proving herself to be awake too.

"If you were going to run for it, you should have done it this morning," Oak says, sitting up while wrapped in her quilt. I think she's been crying, but I'm not going to mention it.

"What's the time?" Aldar says. Oak throws him a look that would shrivel anyone else up inside, but he keeps his face blank. Finally, she reaches into her pocket and pulls out a gold pocket watch and glances at it.

"Nearly half past three," she says.

"What day is it?" I ask, feeling stupid that I don't know the date. I always knew the day, even during the war. It feels like I've been on this train for a thousand years.

"Does it matter?" Glow says, sitting up and stretching his arms over his head. Glow's strong, and a lot taller than I am; that doesn't mean much in here, though. Everyone's taller than me. I'm pretty sure I'm the shortest; even Cinder's a little bit taller than me, and he's small. How much of a chance am I going to have of getting home?

"Well I'm betting it's going to be District 5, since 2 is so close to the Capitol," Osa says. "It makes sense, doesn't it?" It does, actually. So we're pulling into District 5; who are we going to pick up here?

Cass was right; we start slowing down only minutes after she tells us about the chain link fence. Beade opens her eyes, but keeps ignoring me. "We're friends, aren't we?" I ask her.

"Thought we were."

"Nothing changed," I say, but even as the words leave my mouth, I know I'm wrong. Everything changed, or rather, _I_ changed in a blink of an eye.

"Really?" Beade says, raising an eyebrow at me. "You turned from loyalist to rebel in a night."

"No, no I didn't. I'm not a rebel." Honestly, I'm edging more towards neutral, like Cass and Aldar. It's a safe place to be, don't you think? Even though Oak keeps getting mad at the neutral people, nothing really bad seemed to happen to them. But I'm not going to tell Beade that.

"Thank god for that," Beade says icily.

"Oh, come on, don't be that way," I say. "I don't want to make an enemy out of you."

"Then don't."

"Beade, come on."

"Fine! Fine, we're still friends," Beade says, but I don't think her heart is in it.

"We're here," Cass says. "Let's get away from the door." She, Osa, and Willow scoot backwards until they're sitting directly underneath the hole. I don't know if the Peacekeepers will notice we're three down, or the massive hole in the ceiling, but I hope they don't. I kind of like the idea of Tazzel, Birches, and Tulsee running free.

The train coasts to a stop and the rattling ends almost immediately. I don't think my ears will ever be the same after what, three or four days, on this train. Almost everyone is sitting up at attention, most hiding their hands behind them, like I'm doing. The last thing I want is to have those cuffs put on me again.

"Stand back! I do not want any trouble from you!" a man shouts from outside. We all stay stonily quiet as the lock is removed and the door slides open, revealing a world that's both grey and green. All I can see is what appears to be a bombed-out train station, a concrete platform, and green grass at the edge of it.

And standing on the platform is a Peacekeeper with a scarred face, a tall and muscled boy with blonde hair, and a little girl with the biggest blue eyes I've ever seen, and long curling red hair. Her eyes widen when she sees us all in the boxcar, but she doesn't say anything.

"Get in, and good riddance," the Peacekeeper snaps, shoving the little girl towards the train. Her hands are locked in front of her, so she doesn't have too difficult a time climbing in, but the look on her face makes me want to cry. The boy follows after her; no problems from these two.

The Peacekeeper leans in and looks around the boxcar. His lips move, but I can't hear anything he's saying, until he bursts out, "Nineteen?"

"What?" Aldar asks, since he's nearest the door.

"There's only nineteen of you in here; I have it on record that there should be twenty-two."

"No, that's accurate," Cinder says, surprising me.

"It is not!" the Peacekeeper shouts, hitting the side of the door and making the boxcar slightly shake. "Where are the others?"

"They escaped!" Beade says. What? What is she doing?

"No they didn't!" Willow says vehemently.

"They did!"

"Shut it!" The Peacekeeper's eyes rove around the entirety of the boxcar, coming to rest on the hole in the roof. "Damn it." With that, he backs up on the platform and starts calling for somebody.

"Why would you do that?" I ask, looking Beade full in the face.

"They're rebels, and rebels should be caught. Why should we be the ones to pay for their crimes?"

"They didn't commit any crimes," I say. "You've just condemned them to death."

"It's not like they don't deserve it."

My mouth drops slightly open in shock. How could I ever have been friends with this girl? And how could I have been like her?

"I can't sit with you," I mutter, getting up from where I've sat the past few days. This time I've surprised Beade; I don't think she thought I would ditch.

"Alliance is over if you walk away, Silver."

"I don't want to be in your alliance."

While the Peacekeeper is raving outside at somebody else, I walk towards the little girl, who's still sitting by the door, wide eyed. I hold out my hand to her, but she doesn't take it at first. She just looks up at me.

"Will you be my ally?" I ask, still holding my hand out. Maybe she isn't the strongest person on this train, and maybe I've just condemned myself to death by leaving Beade and Glow and Flick, but I want to be a better person than them. Even if it brings me a quicker death.

She's going to need someone in here, and I don't want her to be a Cinder or a Jet, who sit on the sidelines and wait for death. For how ever long we're in here, I want her to be my ally.

"Me?" she says finally, in a soft voice.

"You."

She hesitates a moment longer, then takes my hand in both of hers and stands up, leaving her district partner behind. The two of us walk and find an empty space between Jet and Sanguin; not the optimal place to be, but I'll take it.

"I'm Silver," I say to her as we sit down. "We can get your cuffs off later, once we start the train again."

She smiles and says, "I'm Violet."


	18. Together or Not at All

** Oak Peacewood **

In my head, I keep seeing Tulsee as I last saw her, sitting in the grass beside the train tracks. Looking at me with that strange wonder on her face. It's funny how she looked the same both wreathed in flames, and in the tall grass outside of District 5.

I can't say I knew her well, but in a way, she was a connection to my family; she was there at the Capitol when the world ended, she was there when my mother was taken, when Katya disappeared. I hope beyond hope that I never see Tulsee Skyforge again, because if I do, that means she's a tribute and prisoner again.

Well, I kind of wish I got off when I could several hours ago, because having all these Peacekeepers pounding through the train, and on top of it too, is both annoying and nerve-wracking. I don't like Peacekeepers at the best of times, and having them board up this morning's hard work is a blow.

"Where did they go? How long ago was it?"

Beade looks up at the Peacekeeper who's interrogating her. His voice seems too deep, as though he's forcing it down. "I don't know where they went; I barely know where we are now! And they got off a little while after Osa and the other one got on this morning. Outside of 10, I guess. Maybe."

I'm going to get off this train once we get to the Capitol, and then I'm going to find Katya, but it would almost be worth it to go into the Hunger Games to kill Beade, that absolute loyalist idiot. She obviously traded all of her morals for a pretty face.

The Peacekeeper shouts out the door, "We're looking at three fugitives, two from District 8, and one girl from District 6, got off between 10 and 5!"

"Descriptions?" a woman calls back.

Does nobody communicate to each other here? You'd think that they'd have a record of all the tributes on hand, that they would have kept track of who was reaped and participating in their first Hunger Games. It's probably on tape somewhere, but the lack of communication is appalling.

"Let's hear it, blondie. What'd they look like?" the Peacekeeper says, turning back to Beade. She looks up at him with a smug grin on her face.

"The two from District 8 had orange hair, and Tulsee from 6 had brown hair."

"Two redheads and a brunette!" the Peacekeeper shouts out the door.

"You're not going to catch them," Osa says vehemently, surprising me. She's not very tall, but she's got some spirit in her. And I'm biased; I have to like her because of her hairpins that got my hands loose. The two girls beside her, however, aren't looking very good; Willow from 11 looks tired, and Cass keeps getting thinner and thinner.

I shouldn't worry about them, because it's none of my business whether they live or die. I thought I had stopped caring for anyone besides my family, long ago when I started living in the Sap. I had to stop feeling for the people who died there every day; I would have splintered into pieces long ago if I had, like a clay pot dropped onto a stone floor. I would be the shards, and nobody would be able to put me together again.

Seeing Tulsee leave, and the younger kids slowly starve to death, frightened and alone, is making me crack inside, and I don't like it. I don't have anyone left to cry for, except Katya, but Cass does, and Willow does, and so does everyone else in this train car. These are the people I tried to liberate, and I only helped condemn to an unimaginable death.

"We're not going to catch them, are we?" the Peacekeeper says sarcastically. "The Capitol never fails. We won the war, you lost, kid. You just focus on getting ready to die, and we'll work on finding them."

With that, he moves to get out of the train car; stepping onto the platform, he leans down and picks something up. In one swift movement, he throws the rock at Osa, and it hits the girl in her side, making her cry out. The Peacekeeper laughs and shuts the door, leaving us in that horrible eternal twilight.

"Osa! Are you okay?" Cass says, picking up the rock and clenching it in her fist so tightly her knuckles turn white.

"I'm fine," Osa says, her voice thick with tears. She impresses me, though, and she doesn't let herself cry. She's stronger than me today; after Tulsee left I sobbed, for her, for myself, for my family, and even for Aldar. My friend, my best friend, and now we're hardly more than strangers.

I loved him, he was my brother in more ways than one. If he hadn't left me alone in the woods that day, if he had agreed to come with me to the Capitol, if he hadn't been such a coward, maybe things would be different.

Maybe he would be dead if he had come, though. We'd still be here; Aldar being at the Capitol wouldn't have changed anything for the war. One boy couldn't bring down the Capitol alone. For the first time, I think maybe I've been unfair to Aldar. The wave of regret and loss washes over me, further splintering me down until I can almost feel myself crack in half inside.

Tears prick at my eyes again, but I rub them away; I've had enough crying for a lifetime. I need to focus on Katya, and my plan to get out and find her. Of course, it's difficult when I don't know where they're going to take us when we get to the Capitol, if they're going to restrain us, and what kind of security we're going to have while we're there. I think this might be a make-a-plan-on-site mission.

When I look up and across the room, I meet Aldar's eyes. I used to know exactly what he was thinking, but I can't now. He sits a few feet away from the door, leaning against the wall with his knees drawn up and his hands clasped around him. He's always sat that way, always, and seeing him like that, in that familiar position, brings me back to a time before the rebellion, when the world was still fairly simple.

_  
Aldar leans against the tree for which he's named, his knees bent and his hands clasped around them loosely. When I look at him, I see dark hair against white bark- and a boy who looks far too tall to just be thirteen._

_"It's just not fair, Aldar! The Capitol's making Katya start work soon, even though she's a year older than you are." I pace in the clearing, from one alder tree to the other. The grass is cool, and tickles my bare feet, but I don't mind._

_"My mother says that I might have to leave school soon to get a job in lumberjacking," Aldar says. I stop short and stare at him._

_"Isn't that against the rules? Don't you have to be seventeen to do that?" I'm appalled that Mrs. Grovepath is making Aldar leave school, and the idea that I might have to start work in a year is even more awful. I'm only twelve; I want to go to school and stay home with Mom and Katya._

_Aldar shrugs. "The Capitol doesn't really care what we do, as long as we meet the lumber quota. And now that- that Dad's gone," he says, his voice breaking a little on the last words. "I've got to help out or we'll lose the house."_

_I stop pacing and just look at him; I don't really know what to do. Aldar's dad died in the winter, in an accident in the sawmill. Mom didn't let me see Mr. Grovepath before they buried him, it was that bad. Since he died, though, Aldar and his mom have been struggling. I feel so lucky to have both Mom and Dad, and to not have to worry about leaving Cherry Lane._

_"I'm really sorry, Aldar," is what I finally say. He smiles up at me, and I reach down and pull his hand until he's standing next to me. "Mom and Dad are talking about the Capitol again," I whisper._

_"What are they saying?" Aldar whispers back as we walk deeper into the woods, away from the sunlit clearing and into the shadowy trees, where not even the Capitol can find us._

_"They don't think it's fair to make everyone work for so little. See, if your mom made more money, then you could stay in school. And they don't like how the Capitol keeps Peacekeepers here all the time, like we're criminals. There's a lot of things that aren't fair, Aldar, and I think my parents have an idea to stop it."_

_"Don't you go and get mixed up in it," Aldar says, poking me. I slap his hand away and laugh a little._

_"The way Mom talks about it, it would be an adventure to bring down the Capitol and put in a proper government."_

_"You're twelve; why do you even care?"_

_"I don't want Katya to get hurt like- like some people do when they work," I say, trying to steer clear of his dad, but he knows what I almost said anyway. "I don't want you to get hurt, or anyone. And it's not fair that hardly anyone makes any money. I don't know. I just agree with them. And it's not just me! There're other people who come by the house at night and talk, and Katya and I listen from the top of the stairs. People want change."_

_"I'm not even going to try and change your mind," Aldar says, always playing the part of the older kid. He grew up fast after his dad died, and it's hard to get used to. "Just don't drag me into it. I'm not going to cause trouble for the Capitol, because then trouble will find me, and then Mom and I will lose the house. You play reckless, I'm going to play it safe."_

_"You won't tell anyone, will you?" I ask, absentmindedly wrapping a lock of hair around my finger, then unwrapping it again._

_Aldar grins at me, the same grin he gives me when we climb trees or jump over streams while tracking deer. "Course I won't. I wouldn't let you down, you know that. Together…"_

_"Or not at all!" we finish together, walking into the shady trees._

The rumble of the train under me wakes me up from my memories. We're leaving?

"Why is the train starting? Aren't they trying to find the others?" the newest little girl says from where she sits beside Silver. Silver's impressed me today; she left the loyalists to go look after the District 5 girl, and even though she looks scared and worn, she looks happier than I've seen her all trip. I have to give her credit for that.

"Guess they have to keep to their schedule," Aldar says. "We've stayed here too long."

He's right; but I can't help hoping that we're leaving because they think there's no point in looking for the others. I look up to the ceiling, where the hole used to be; it's completely covered over with a plank. The opportunity for escape passed this morning, and now, even if I wanted to leave, I have to stick it out until the end.

Reaching into my pocket, I pull out the photograph I took from Cherry Lane, and then again from the Sap the day of the reapings. It's wrinkled now from being battered around the past few days, but even in this twilight I can see their faces. Especially the face that matters most to me right now.

Like always, her mouth is open in that familiar grin, her hair dark around her shoulders. My sister, with the graceful fingers that could draw anything or make creations out of seemingly nothing. Who would laugh until her face was red at nothing at all. When we were younger, she and I would gather flowers in the clearings of the woods and bring them home to decorate the house.

I remember our room we shared, painted lavender, and the dark bedstead covered in this very quilt. We made this quilt a long time ago, with our mother's help. My world was happy, but Panem was not, and that's why I helped rise up against the Capitol. That's why Katya left me, taking a piece of me with her that I haven't gotten back since. Why our parents died, and I returned home alone.

My whole world ended with those bombs.

I have to find her, my laughing, smiling sister. Without her, I don't know what world is left for me. The Capitol captured me, and I hope it captured her, because otherwise she's dead and buried in a grave that nobody will ever bring flowers to; a grave I will never visit. Without Katya, I might as well dig a grave for myself.

"Are you okay?" Aldar's sudden appearance next to me startles me, and I stuff the photograph back into my pocket.

"I'm fine."

"I'm sorry I kept you here. I know you wanted to go with Tulsee," he says in a low enough voice that nobody else will hear him.

"I did," I agree. "You're right, though. I need to find Katya."

"I meant what I said earlier, too; I should have gone with you and fought at the Capitol; maybe we could have gotten Katya out alive. I should have gone with you," Aldar says.

"It's okay. Having one extra person wouldn't have changed anything for the war. We'd still be here," I say. "I told you I wouldn't drag you into the rebellion, and I did, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything."

"We're going to get Katya out of the Capitol, and you too," Aldar says determinedly.

"What about you?"

Aldar smiles sadly at me. "I'm a tribute. I'm going to stay. Once you're gone, I've got nobody else to go back to."

"What about your mom?"

He freezes for a moment, then says, "She's dead. She died a few weeks ago. She got sick and- and I couldn't save her."

"I didn't know; I'm so sorry," I say in a half whisper.

"You wouldn't have known. I was a few days away from losing the house when I got reaped, so why would I go back? To live in the Sap forever?"

"Doesn't mean you have to die, you know. You could win."

"I'm going to help you get out and find Katya, I promise," Aldar says. "I'll help you escape, and then you can forget about me and just worry about her, okay? Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

"Are you sure? You could come with us."

"I'm going to stay here and make sure that the younger kids get good deaths," Aldar says, and his words worsen the cracks inside me. "I'm going to make them peaceful, and then I can die too. I'm not afraid to die, Oak."

"You never were scared of much," I say, trying to lighten the mood a little. Aldar talking about death and dying makes everything so much worse. No matter what we've been through, what he said and what I did, I don't want him to die. "We're all going to get out, Aldar. Come with me and we can find Katya together."

Aldar smiles a little. "We'll see what happens when we get to the Capitol."

"Together, Aldar," I say, gripping his hand and making him meet my eyes with his own. "Together."

"Or not at all," Aldar finishes, and squeezes my hand back.


	19. Body and Soul

** Cass Oceansong **

Osa's left side is bruised, the dark skin blossoming into purples and blacks where the Peacekeeper hit her with the rock. She hasn't cried, though, just keeps her hand over the bruises as though to protect them.

Willow hasn't said much either, and neither have I, since we pulled out of District 5. All that's left for us to go to is District 2, and then the Capitol- and after that I don't know what's going to happen. I don't feel much right now, only the sharp edges of the rock I'm still holding in my hand.

Buck, for all his might and determination, has slumped down on the opposite side of the train, his head in his still shackled hands. The new boy, Link, his name is, already looks worn out, his blonde hair limp and straggly. He looks at his hands, at the cuffs that nobody's bothered to take off yet.

"Oak?"

"What do you want, Silver?" Oak says from her spot directly behind me. Her district partner joined her a little while earlier, and her voice is softer than before.

"Do you still have the hairpins?"

"Osa does."

"Here," Osa says, pulling another pin out of her braided hair with the hand she doesn't have held to her side. She holds it out to Silver, who's also sitting fairly close to us, with the little girl we just picked up.

Silver shakes her head. "I don't know how to do it. Oak, could you take the cuffs off of Violet? Please?"

Oak hesitates for only a second, then takes the pin from Osa. "Come here," she says, gesturing to Violet. The girl, who must only be a year or two younger than me but seems much younger than that, edges her way towards Oak and holds her hands out. Oak fiddles with the pin in the lock for a moment, before the cuffs drop to the ground.

"Thank you," Violet says, her voice high. Oak nods to the girl, and Silver pulls her back towards herself. Silver seems to have taken on a protector role with Violet, and I'm still surprised she left the other loyalists. Silver's changed, but I think it's a good change.

Seeing Violet with her red hair makes me want to cry; she reminds me of Wave. I'm so glad that Wave didn't have to come on this train, and that she's not headed to the Capitol like I am. She's safe; she can always be safe now. I hope that we are the only tributes that have to die, and then the Capitol can forgive the districts and move on with rebuilding them.

"I want to go home." The voice, a girl's, is unfamiliar; it sounds rusty, as though it hasn't been used for a long time. "I want to go home," she says again, and this time I realize that it's Aldera. I've never heard her speak before. Somehow, it's almost impossible to think that she and Sanguin got on just yesterday morning. I don't even know how long I've been trapped in this train car.

Aldera coughs into her hand, and I see the red blood spatter against the white skin. "Please!" she moans, "I want to go home!"

"Well who the hell do you think is going to take you home?" Buck snaps at her. "Nobody's going home, don't you get it?"

"Somebody's got to," Link says, sitting beside the door. "That's the point; somebody's going to get home."

"Which means the rest of us will be dead," Volt says drily.

"We could always refuse to fight," Willow says. Her hands clasp the candle in the same way I'm clutching the rock. Her candle is shorter than it was yesterday, but still so precious. Candlelight warms me, and makes my mind turn away from the train and the fact that my stomach is gnawing at itself from hunger.  
 __

_"Light the candle, lass," my father says, holding the lantern out to me. Carefully, with my eight year old hands, I guide the burning match into the lantern and light the candle inside. Warm light spills out and illuminates the deck of the Luna; I wave the match until the flame flickers out and all I hold is a burnt piece of wood._

_"How come you didn't pick Sea to come out here?" I ask, blowing on my fingers to stay warm. Though it's summer, it's a cold night. I don't even know why my father has decided to go fishing in the dark; he always leaves as the sun is rising and comes home when it's setting._

_"I've taken Sea out when she was your age, and I'll take her out again in the daylight hours. I'll take Wave out when she's your age as well. But tonight, it's your turn." He hangs the lantern in the cabin of the boat, where it sends out tendrils of light all over the deck._

_"What are we doing?"_

_My father smiles in the candlelight, loosing the fishing boat from the docks. District 4 is quiet behind us, and the sea is calm in front of us, as the Luna slips silently through the waves and out into the open water._

_While my father guides the boat forward, I stand at the bow, watching the moonlight on the waves; silver-white against blue-black. Here in the darkness, the ocean is eternal, never-ending. I'd like to find out what's beyond the districts one day, go over that dark horizon and sail to a world outside Panem. One day._

_My father comes behind me and stands at the bow by my side. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" he says, hushed. I nod. "You're wondering why I brought out of your warm bed to look at the moon, aren't you?" I nod again._

_He runs his hands over the boat railing. "Out here in the dark, we are our own people. You're not too young, Cass, to know that the Capitol owns us, every one of us. We fish for them, and that's how we play our part for Panem." Father turns and looks down at me; I can barely see his face in the candlelight._

_"Remember, Cass, they own your body, but they don't own your mind or soul. One day, I promise you, things will be different. One day everyone in Panem will be free to speak their minds and choose where to live."_

_"You promise," I say, and it's not so much a question as a statement. My father never breaks his promises._

_"I promise. Now, look, Cassandra," he says, and he never calls me Cassandra unless he's serious. "Look at the water and the moon and the stars. None of those can be tamed or owned. Your soul is like that. Inside, you are always free. Do you understand?"_

_"I think so," I say, even though I don't really. "Can you tell me the constellations again?"_

_I see my father smile through the darkness, then he points up at the night sky full of stars. "There's Cassiopeia, almost like your name- and Cygnus the swan. Do you see its wings?"_

_"Maybe," I say, squinting at the tiny dots of light. Maybe I don't understand what my father means now, but I think I will one day. Right now, I'm just happy to look at the stars beside my father, and feel the Luna rock underneath me, cradled by the waves._

The pain in my hand brings me back to the present time, back to hunger and loss and tears. Back to a stinging palm from the rock I've gripped too tightly.

"Not fight? They're going to make us fight in the end, you know that," Flick says.

"We can choose not to," Willow insists.

"And you think they're just going to let us go if we don't play their game?" Volt says. "You're stupid if you think that."

"I don't want to kill anyone," Willow says.

"Like any of us do?" Flick gives a harsh laugh that's devoid of any humor.

"I say the rebels go out first and then we see where we stand," Glow says, pointing at Oak. "They're going to bring the others back, and then we're going to show you that loyalists come out on top." Glow briefly glances at Silver, who holds Violet's hand. "Usually."

"I can take you any day," Link says, fiddling with the chain between his cuffs. "I've killed self absorbed idiots like you before, I'll do it again."

"Sorry, what was that? Are you threatening me?" Glow says, sitting up very straight.

"Yeah, I am actually. I'm not taking any shit from you- what's your name again?"

"He's called Glow," Oak says behind me. "District 1 idiot."

"I could tell by the name," Link says, smirking. "Like I said, I'm not taking any shit from a guy whose name sounds like a lightbulb. I told my girl I'd get home, and I'm not breaking that promise."

Breaking promises. My father said he would never see any of us go to the Games if he could help it, and now he has, and he couldn't help me. My father who told me that the Capitol owned my body but never my soul; I never understood what he meant, but I think I do now.

The Capitol has my person on their train going to their Hunger Games. I can't change that. They don't have me, though, they don't have my thoughts and hopes and dreams and memories, and they can't take them. They can force me into the arena, but they can't make me kill my fellow tributes.

They don't own me, and they never will.


	20. My Girl

** Silver Bellcreek **

Violet leans against me, half asleep as the train rattles through the night. I keep one arm wrapped around her, the other propping me up so I don't fall back. I should be sleeping, but I can't; not yet. I'm not the only one still awake; Willow holds her lit candle close to her, Cass, and Osa, but I can't hear anything that they're saying.

I hold Violet tighter, trying to protect her from the world around us. I don't know why I feel like I need to protect her, but I do. She's only thirteen, and she's alone. I'm alone too, but not in the same way. Trying to keep her safe makes me feel braver. My ally.

Someone on the other side of the train begins to sing; I can hear her rough voice even over the rattling. Aldera; I think it's Aldera. I'm proven right when the singing stops abruptly, interrupted by a coughing fit, before continuing.  
 __

_"Once I was a rose, growing steadily in the sand_

_Once I was a cherry, picked by a steady hand_

_Once I was a tree, reaching up into the sky_

_Now I am forgotten, and this is where I die._

_Soon I'll be a thorn, cut into the sand_

_Soon I'll be a stone, thrown by a forgetting hand_

_Soon I'll be a stump, cut down without a sigh_

_Now I am forgotten, and this is where I die."  
_

"Lighten up," Glow growls. "And shut it; we're trying to sleep here."

"Screw you, District 1," Sanguin snarls from behind me. His voice is still hoarse from screaming.

"Shut the hell up!" Buck shouts on the opposite side of the train. Violet wraps her arms around me tight; I find myself stroking her long curly hair. Aldera's stopped singing, returning instead to coughing and crying, her usual standbys.

I want to go home. I want to be back in my bed up in the attic with Shine; I want to pick flowers with Flaire. I want to go to school and forget about the war completely. Most of all, I don't want to die; don't want any of us to die. Beade's awful and mean, I know now, but I don't want her dead, or Glow or Rigg or Flick- or anyone else!

And especially not Violet.

"When do you think we'll get there, Silver?" she whispers so only I can hear.

"Soon. It has to be soon," I whisper back, still stroking her head.

"I'm scared."

"Me too. But it'll be okay; I'll watch out for you." I don't know what to expect when we reach the Capitol.

The train shifts under me in its familiar way. "What's going on?" Violet whispers; I can hear the fear in her voice. "Are we at the Capitol?"

"Welcome to District 2," Rigg says. "Last stop."

Last stop before the Capitol. Who are we bringing aboard?

Violet holds me tighter around the middle as the train slows and stops, leaving the world quiet at last. Nobody talks, and even Aldera pauses her crying. Willow blows her candle out; I can still see the red tip of the hot wick, until it burns itself out into blackness.

The lock comes off of the door, making Violet bury her face in my lap. She's never done a pickup, and this is our last one.

What then?

The door flies open, revealing more Peacekeepers than we've ever had accompany the tributes before. One holds the leash of a large, brutal looking dog, the others hold guns or flashlights whose beams burn into my eyes, making me squint.

"Raoul, you go," a Peacekeeper further back shouts, and a tall and muscular looking Peacekeeper jumps into the train car with us, gun in one hand, flashlight in the other.

"Watch where you shine that," Oak snaps, half closing her eyes.

"Or what?" the Peacekeeper replies, smirking at her.

"Or I'll shove up where it won't shine again."

"You shut it," the Peacekeeper snaps, shining his light around the car, focusing on each of us in turn. When the beam hits Violet and me, she squeezes me even tighter, if that's possible. The light reflects off of her hair, making it glow like burning embers.

Beade and the rest of my old alliance don't react much when the light hits them; the bright light only emphasizes how tired and worn they look. How _I_ must look. I've been on this train for a thousand years.

"Get your goddamn light off of me!" Buck growls when the Peacekeeper focuses his flashlight on the boy from 11.

"Try anything and we'll put a dog and ten guns on you. Try me," the Peacekeeper, Raoul, says before moving the beam on. Aldera's started crying again, and I can feel Violet trembling on me.

"We've got everyone accounted for," Raoul finally shouts, looking out the door. "That's supposed to be in here, anyway."

"Get in you little cretins," another Peacekeeper says, shoving the last pair of tributes towards the door. Raoul shines his flashlight directly in the girl's face, giving me a proper look at her.

She's taller than me for sure, with dark brown hair that's been pulled back into a messy bun. She must have been reaped days ago, but has been waiting for the train since. She's pretty, but in a regal way, like everyone she looks at is below her. It's what I see in her black eyes that worries me though, reflecting the stark white light of the flashlight.

She looks cruel.

"So you're the little volunteer," Raoul says softly, not moving the flashlight from her face. "Eager to get into that arena, are you?"

"I will be when you move out of the way and let me get on this train. I've been waiting for a long time to get on, and I'm tired of standing around," she says coolly, yet politely. Again, she acts like she could be the queen of Panem and get away with it.

"By all means, lady," Raoul says mockingly, stepping to the side and letting the girl climb aboard. She doesn't sit; she turns to look out the door at her partner who still stands below.

"And then there's you," Raoul continues, flashing his light down at the short boy who looks up at him. Curly brown hair, pointed face, and worried eyes, that's the boy from District 2. "Get up here."

The boy's a little too short to climb into the car (is he shorter than me?), so Raoul reaches down and hauls him up, leaving him to sprawl on the wood floor. "Enjoy the Capitol, vermin," Raoul snaps as he jumps down out of the car. The flashlights go out and the door slams shut, leaving us in darkness again. Violet trembles but she doesn't cry.

"So who are you?" Volt asks as the train starts up again, its ceaseless rattling drowning out the outside world.

Willow lights her candle, giving off just enough light for me to stop panicking. I don't like the dark right now. Violet slowly lets go of me, sitting up and leaning against me instead. I've known her only a few hours, but I feel like she's _mine_ , my girl, my ally, my responsibility.

The girl from District 2 is just barely visible in the faint candlelight, her head held high and proud. "Curia Whitetree," she says, each word annunciated crisply. "And I'm supposing that you all are my fellow tributes?"

"Wonder how you guessed that," Volt says sarcastically. "Who's your friend there?"

"I'm Lar," the District 2 boy says, getting up carefully from the floor. "I'm not her friend."

"Are you loyalist or rebel?" Beade cuts in.

Curia's face curves upwards into a sharp smile. "Loyalist. Why else would I have volunteered?"

"Then you can come right here and sit with us; we're loyalists too," Beade says smugly, patting the ground next to her. Curia hesitates only a second, adjusting her cuffs awkwardly, then walks smoothly over to take her place next to Beade. Lar doesn't get a similar invitation; he sits down near the door and rests his elbows on his knees.

"Silver?" Violet whispers so that only I can hear.

"Yeah?"

"What do you think is going to happen when we get to the Capitol?"

I don't know what's going to happen five minutes from now, let alone when we get to the Capitol. I know that they're going to make us fight, that they're punishing the districts by making us die, but I can't help but hold onto the chance that they'll let us go free. That they'll show Panem that the Capitol is merciful and will let us go.

But I can't tell Violet that, get her hopes up that we might go free, only to have them dashed to pieces.

"I don't know," I finally say. "But I'll take care of you no matter what. I promise."

Violet leans into me, her face against my shoulder, and I feel her smile. "I'll stay with you too."

My girl. I don't know why she's my girl, but she is. And if I can keep her from dying, I'm going to do it. No matter what.

Please let the Capitol be merciful.


End file.
